double jeu
by kurohaha
Summary: An injured Chat Noir leads to a frantic Marinette and frequent midnight visits neither of them had expected to get used to. /rating subject to change.
1. prologue

_A/N: this is based off a roleplay with SairenHaria on AO3 (holy shit, they are amazing)_  
 _most pov from adrien/chat belongs to them, everything is edited by me to flow_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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i.  
prologue

 _Des erreurs soient commises._

* * *

It had been an instinct.

The fact was, of the two, it was less risky for him to be incapacitated than Ladybug. She was the one who could purify Akuma. She was the one who could fix damages—so even with his feelings set aside, of course, it made sense for him to take injury over her. On his own, he could only destroy, but she could create and she could _heal._

It was just in his nature that when danger came, he would the last one to get out of the line of fire. And tonight, he had been patrolling alone. Ladybug had said something about family things that evening, so she wouldn't be there. But that was fine. As long as there was no Akuma, he could handle things alone. So far, It had even been a relatively calm night.

When he had decided to head home around midnight was when things went south.

A mugging. It was just a mugging, the most stereotypical of superhero crimes. He thought he'd clean up, save the haggard looking businessman, and be on his way. Except the mugger wasn't alone. The mugger's partner also had a gun. Chat Noir had to push the poor civilian out of the way and knocked the mugger out with an extension of his staff and it wasn't until the mugger hit the ground he realized _his side felt like it was on fire **.**_

The darkness and black suit concealed his injury alongside the practiced smiles. He told the businessman to head home, that the streets were dangerous, and to please call the police. The muggers would wake up eventually, so better they came sooner rather than later. But, it was only after the man had left that he allowed himself collapse against a wall and to take a look at the injury. _"P-Putain_ … _"_

It was a graze, thank god.

The bullet was buried in the wall and not his liver. But it was deep. He would probably need stitches, though he couldn't exactly go to a hospital. "This is gonna hurt," the hero muttered and began his trek along rooftops, pushing himself to get home, one hand pressed against his injury. He had to keep going. That was all. If he could stop the bleeding, then his Miraculous would help speed the healing along. He just needed to get it to stop.

Of course, parkour while bleeding to death wasn't the brightest of ideas—and he ended up tripping. Chat Noir saw nothing in front of him, panic gripping his heart, and he just managed to pull out his baton and extend it to hit a wall—sending him rocketing for another rooftop.

The balcony was familiar. When had he seen… right, when he was acting as bodyguard for _her._

He'd just crash-landed on Marinette's roof.


	2. à la vie, à la mort

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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ii.  
à la vie, à la mort

 _Les héros morts ne peuvent pas sauver personne, tu sais ?_

* * *

A dinner event. It was the last day her great-uncle would be staying in Paris and her parents had urged her to come along… something about how spending time with family was important. And while it wasn't often that Ladybug abandoned her partner on patrols, the evening had seemed fairly peaceful. No obscene disturbances, wreckage in the city, Akumatized villians in sight. So, she had informed Chat Noir of her imminent absence with a clear conscience and took the opportunity to draw back and relax.

She had full faith in the notion that the kitty cat could easily handle any minor crimes without her.

It was nearly midnight by the time she'd arrived home again. Wishing her mother and father good night, she climbed up to her room and wasted not even a minute in peeling her dress off for more comfortable clothing. Once the bluenette was settled down in a pair of flannel pajamas and a loose, red, T-shirt, she grabbed her phone and moved to sit on the daybed.

Tikki fluttered out from her bag. "Marinette, was it okay to leave him behind?"

There was no need to question, _'who?'_ A reassuring smile tugged her lips as she confidently responded, "As troublesome as he can be, Chat Noir is pretty dependable. I'm sure he's heading home by now."

She'd spoken too soon. These words were followed by a loud _crash_ and Marinette blinked, sitting upright. _"Ah?"_

What was _that?_

It sounded as though it had come from somewhere above. With a frown, she scrambled out of bed and made her way up the staircase. Her heart felt like it was in her throat. Marinette unlocked the hatch and hesitantly poked her head out to peek at her surroundings.

There _he_ was, baton retracting and figure crumpled on her balcony.

 _"Chat Noir—?"_ Climbing onto the roof, Marinette stepped forward to get a better look before kneeling beside her partner. "H-Hey, are you alright?"

Marinette tried to make heads or tails of the situation. Surely, he had just missed his mark to land and would soon rise from the ground all-smiles! But an uneasy sensation filled her chest when she realized it couldn't be something so trivial and this was confirmed the moment she settled a hand on his shoulder to turn him onto his back.

There was blood spilling steadily from between the gloved fingers pressed to his right side. Horrorstruck, Marinette gasped. He had been _injured._ Chat Noir groaned in response and for a few moments, all that was in the hero's head was the confusion as to where he was and the screaming pain. The landing had not been easy, and he had instinctively curled up, trying to staunch the bleeding again.

The hand on his shoulder… he finally realized that, _oh—_ Marinette's balcony. Which meant, at this time of night, _Marinette_. He needed to get up. He needed to move. He needed to do _something,_ _damn it_ _,_ but he couldn't find the ability to act as his body seized up.

 _"O-Okay, now just relax!"_ Marinette was the one having trouble staying calm, and Chat Noir couldn't help but huff with amusement despite his ragged state. If she'd possessed the strength in her civilian form, she would have scooped him up in her arms and carried him inside. Instead, she hooked an arm around his back to help the other sit up.

"Can you stand? —'m about to grab some towels and call the ambulance. I promise you'll be fine!"

He hissed at the movement, regaining some sense of direction at hearing the word. "No ambulance!"

He didn't like to snap at well-meaning civilians, especially not _Marinette_ , but he couldn't possibly let her call the ambulance. Secret identity, hello? Then there was the fact that he was a minor; he was pretty sure there were laws that required his father be called if he got shot and Adrien Agreste couldn't just refuse to give his name. [He was pretty sure he had a billboard not far from the hospital, anyway.]

"Y-You're Aly— _a friend of the girl who runs the LadyBlog,_ _correct?_ So, you know there's a time limit to my transformation." Think, think, think. "I only need stitches, but it's not bad enough for a hospital. I can stand, just—"

"Just nothing!" She was wracking her own mind for some way to help. Chat Noir was on her balcony, bleeding and exhausted and it was entirely _her_ fault for leaving him alone earlier. Guilt brewed in her gut. Would this have happened if Ladybug had been patrolling nearby? "Stay here, I'll get my phone!"

 _"Princess—"_

He reached out to grip the hem of her shirt before she could scuttle off, sharp claws digging into fabric. She was a seamstress. Thread wasn't as good, but it would do. _"Princess, if…_ if you're worried, I could use supplies."

"Supplies?" Marinette felt uneasy when Chat Noir struggled to sit up, desperate for her to stay in place, and the clear pain on his features even as he attempted to assure her of his lack of need for an ambulance made her heart clench uncomfortably.

She couldn't find it in herself to feel annoyed at the nickname. All her attention had shifted to getting the bleeding to slow down.

"…We have a suture kit." She spoke slowly to keep her words from melding into some frantic mess. "I only know how to sew clothes but I can take a look with that."

"The process is more or less the same," he responded, forcing his voice to remain equally as steady. "I-I've done it before a few times. Admittedly, the wounds were _minor_ in comparison." Often times, it was an injury he hadn't realized was still bleeding until returning home, and only two or three stitches were used to the many he'd need now. But, if he was obstinate about skipping a hospital visit, she couldn't let him go without doing _something._

"Understood. Here." Marinette slowly rose to her feet, tugging Chat Noir along. Once he'd managed to stand, she allowed him to lean his weight on her and reached around his waist – being wary not to graze his wound in the process.

"Put your arm around my shoulder," she advised him so that she could walk the limping cat inside.

One part of Chat Noir wanted to leave, to not put this on Marinette. The logical, saner, part of him shouted that he was going to seriously hurt himself if he left, and that he needed to take the help when it was presented. So he didn't argue, putting his arm around her shoulder, keeping the other pressed to his wound, leaning heavily on her as she guided him inside. "The fun part will be cleaning the wound," he muttered under his breath and Marinette cringed to herself, offering an, "I got you," as she struggled to stay calm for the both of them.

Once down and inside, the bluenette hurriedly shuffled them over to the bathroom on the opposite side of the small living place. She eased him off of her shoulder to seat him on the edge of the tub. A few towels were handed to him, to replace the hand that was keeping pressure on his wound and he complied, making a mental note to get Plagg a _shitload_ of cheese. Chat Noir knew the transformation upped his endurance for pain because he expected he'd be pretty miserable by now. [Moreso than already. Or rather unconscious, but he didn't like dwelling on that.]

Pressing the towels to his side with a soft whimper, he dazedly nodded to Marinette's succeeding remark, "Give me a second, it should be here." The girl crouched and searched the cupboards under the sink, withdrawing the small suture kit after a few moments.

Fairly confident in her embroidering abilities, even Marinette knew this wouldn't be quite the same. She decided to go with her gut and trust Chat Noir's earlier remark; there was no time to dwell on it, and she opened the case on the floor.

A glance over the instructions was enough for now. She stood and washed the materials as well as her hands. While Marinette cleaned the tools, he began removing his gloves and bell. He let the latter item fall to the ground but kept a single glove beside him.

"Right, okay, so…"As the tools were left to dry, she kneeled in front of Chat Noir and carefully moved the towels aside to inspect his injury. There was a tear in his suit from the impact and wide bluebell eyes wandered the damaged skin, clearly perturbed. [This was more serious than he had described.]

Brow creased, she regarded him with concern. "Were you... stabbed? No— _shot?!"_

"I, _euh_ , I got careless. I didn't see a second mugger, but it's a graze. The bullet ended up in a wall, so even a _black cat_ can have a little luck," he sheepishly explained, grinning at his joke despite the pain.

 _A mugger…_ "That's not funny," she mumbled as she focused on cleaning the wound like he had mentioned earlier, wiping away most of the excess blood. He sighed as she worked off the blood, undoing the zipper of his suit and watching her clumsily prepare a syringe to clear out the debris. Marinette had read once before that medical saline stung far less than alcohol, so she could at least be assured that she wasn't making things any worse.

"This may hurt a little."

Maybe so, but with what was going to come, he could handle it. Chat Noir chuckled weakly, peeling away the tight leather from his right side. It would be much easier to sew up the wound without his suit clinging to him.

"Mm, it's going to hurt a lot," he breathed, grabbing the glove he'd left at his side and sinking his teeth into it.


	3. irréprochable

_A/N: I KNOW, IT'S A LOT OF ANGST TO START OFF WITH. i promise there are lighthearted scenes to come eventually! thanks to everyone who has taken the time to write a review, it's much appreciated._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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iii.  
irréprochable

 _Non, nous sommes tous à blâmer._

* * *

What a situation this was.

Forcing herself to dismiss her guilt at the sound of his laugh, she irrigated the gash with the cold solution. Chat Noir sucked in a sharp breath.

Thankfully, it didn't hurt as badly as he had expected. He would have to find a way to sneak a suture kit into his room. It would certainly make treatment easier if he didn't have to use rubbing alcohol. Marinette was cautious and attentive as she cleared away blood, small pieces of dead skin and torn leather from the area.

As Ladybug, she knew that her Miraculous extended her pain tolerance as well as healing abilities. Not by much, but enough that she was aware that any normal boy would likely be doubled over and sniffling.

"I'm sorry." She cast a sympathetic gaze over the cat once his wound was cleaned. He shrugged the opposite shoulder, trying to give her a reassuring look, though he was unsure of how well it came off with pain mixed in. Noting this, Marinette only felt _more_ at fault; she wanted to reach out, ruffle his hair, cup his cheeks in her palms and assure him again that he would be okay, but the bluenette didn't think she had the capability to brush him off with such useless words of comfort.

Wiping the blood from her hands, she reached for the scissors she had washed earlier and mumbled, "I need to prepare the edges for stitching. Try not to move _, ouais…?"_

It still hurt, [such was the fate of an open wound], but the superhero nodded and gripped at the edges of the tub. He was already braced for pain, and he didn't want to unwind just to rewind again and, well, talking while _gagged_ wasn't very charming. He sighed at the sight of those scissors, trying to not dig claws into porcelain.

He had no interest in making this harder for himself and if he had to be still, then he'd be still.

Marinette snipped away the jagged parts of his skin, careful not to make the opening even worse. In her concentration, she leaned close and gently peeled the edges of his wound apart to make sure they were even for stitching. Chat Noir hunched his shoulders, knuckles white from his grasp on the tub, though he kept his abdomen still. He didn't flinch or jerk away. At the very least when he was given a task, he followed through on it. He just closed his eyes and remained silent.

With Chat Noir calm and unmoving, save for his heavy breathing and twitching hands, Marinette took this opportunity to finish the job.

"You okay?"

She didn't expect him to answer her either, aware that it was difficult to speak in his current condition.

 _"Mm—"_ Even with the makeshift gag, he couldn't repress all the noise. What had been quiet whines were now more agonized, if aborted, sounded. Sadly, there would be shallow marks in the tub from his claws as he fought to keep still. At least some of the distress could come out with his tail safely. He still wasn't sure how that worked, but it seemed to react to his emotions and it helped. In a strange way.

He took about half a minute to relax before straightening up for the rest of the treatment. All excess blood was wiped away and now with his wound neatly trimmed, she wasted no time in slipping the non-absorbable suture material into the needle provided. Marinette held her breath, brow furrowed as she began to stitch the edges of his skin together. Using some kind of modified sewing method … _skin wasn't nearly as easy to puncture as fabric._

She didn't want to put him any unnecessary pain. "I'm... doing this wrong, aren't I?"

Chat Noir whined and lifted a hand to remove the glove from this mouth. _"It…_ It has to be deep enough the skin won't tear, but a-as close to the edge as you can manage. I can… do the _first_ stitch so you can see how far it is… _just_ … kind of need a minute to steady my hand."

Her eyes shifted only briefly from his injury to the cat in question. There were indentations in the tub from where he had been sinking his claws, and the blonde looked terribly dizzy, disoriented.

Marinette felt terrible.

What could she do? Again, the guilt returned at full force. She'd never meant for any of this to happen.

Even though Chat was the one in agonizing pain, the girl finally felt her own eyes well up and vision grow blurry. [But she couldn't cry, _not_ when he _wasn't_ , _not_ when she had an important task to finish and _not_ when he was depending on her for help.]

And, really, he wanted to. But, he was fighting onto his control with every fiber of his being, pulling on everything that let him push through exhaustion and pain and mask to keep some sort of composure.

He could see how it was tearing Marinette apart. Of course, he could. It was plain as day that she cared about people and seeing him in such pain had to be **eating** her up inside.

With a quiet whimper, Marinette drew her left hand up to her face and used her forearm to quickly wipe any traces of emotional distress, the tears that threatened to spill. "Ah, alright," she muttered and dropped her gaze down to the gash on his side. At least the bleeding had slowed.

Heeding Chat Noir's advice while still holding the needle, the girl refrained from making another stitch and decided to wait until he was ready to show her the proper technique. She reached out to hold the hand he was attempting to steady, squeezing his palm gently and avoiding all eye contact.

He hummed in response, taking deep, gulping breaths, trying to calm himself down again. Clinging to her hand and having just enough presence of mind to not actually bruise her, he attempted to find his voice again. "You are… doing quite well, Princess.~ For your first time!"

Anything to help ease the thickness of this air. "This isn't easy. Especially when you haven't prepared for it ahead of time."

His grip on her was beginning to hurt, but it was nothing compared the lump in her throat and the ache in her chest. At his kind words, Marinette couldn't help herself—and a few tears finally rolled down her cheeks. With both hands occupied, she sniffled noisily and ducked her head, using her shoulder and upper arm to dry her eyes. _"Silly cat..."_ Her tone held no malice, no annoyance, and no exasperation. "You should have been more careful."

Chat Noir slumped forward as he let the tension melt out of his body, the sight of her tears sending his mind in a spin. He'd need to let it out if he was going to be able to start the stitches. The tautness would be back soon enough, but he would just deal with the knots in his body later. "Yes, I know. I have to remember just because someone isn't Akumatized, it doesn't make them any less dangerous," he said, exhaustion creeping into his tone.

Marinette knew it wasn't his fault. There had been muggers and who in their right mind _tries_ to get shot? None of this had been caused due to carelessness on his part. "—And _Ladybug_ should have been with you," she murmured without thought, as though seeking to put some of the blame on the superheroine. In all honesty, she was chastising herself, but Chat Noir couldn't have known that.

He frowned at this. "Ladybug has a life. One that she values dearly and demands her attention when she can give it."

And he may not know much about her personally, but the fact she wanted to keep her hero life and her normal life so separate implied she had something to lose. That it was important to her to keep it as safe as possible, to not risk even telling her partner. "The mugger and myself are the only ones to blame for my getting hurt." Perhaps it was due to the stress on his body, he had let more slip than he intended as he added, "If I had been smarter, I wouldn't have gone out alone, but I'm the one who prefers to be in the mask."

Just as Chat Noir knew little about Ladybug out of costume, Marinette couldn't help but wonder about him – what kind of person was he? Behind the mask, flashy behavior, dumb puns. There may have been someone just as ordinary as herself, with a life he valued all the same… No?

"I… guess you're right."

"I _am_ right. Being a superhero isn't a game, as much as we may joke and be charming. There are certain risks involved. I accepted those when I decided to be Chat Noir. I-I can't be afraid to take the hit."

It was a lot more firm than when he usually transformed, but the last thing he wanted was for Marinette to doubt him _or_ his Lady. "For example, I got shot and decided to do parkour anyway…"

She hardly needed to be told that being a superhero was serious business. Marinette knew all too well what Chat Noir meant and for a moment, she wondered if she'd had actually caused him to become upset for putting this on Ladybug. It just went to show how much the blonde cared for her alter-ego; some combination of warmth and uneasiness settling in her stomach.

"Yeah, probably not one of your best moves. You could have gotten even more injured leaping and vaulting around!" Instead, he'd landed on her balcony and call it fate but Marinette had been there to help at the moment's notice.

"I, um, may have panicked a bit… I see in the dark. _How did I not notice him?_ "

It was a lot different, getting hit by some ridiculous magical weapon and getting hit by a bullet. He had just wanted to get home and patched up and curl up in a ball of pain until sleep took him. "Really, I'm kind of glad My Lady didn't see me blunder. She has ways of making me feel like a kitten when she's worried."

Marinette couldn't help but laugh brokenly when he admitted this. The other was a little endearing when he wasn't putting up a front to appear super cool around her all the time.

However assumptions were not safe and she understood that if he was, 'the one who prefers to be in the mask,' there must have been much more to his situation. He sounded so tired. Marinette relaxed, her quiet sniffles dissipating into slow breaths. By now, she felt a little more assured.

Chat Noir didn't blame Ladybug, and it was enough to draw her attention back to the more serious matter at hand. Her knees ached from kneeling on the tile for so long and as the blonde's body seemed to loll forward, she moved closer so that he could lean his uninjured half against hers. Propping her chin on the cat's shoulder, Marinette remained silent as he took his time in calming down.

Eventually, she spoke up, gently squeezing his hand in her own again. "How do you feel?"

He sighed and checked the knot of the thread as he leaned against her.

"Fine. I can show you now, I think."

"Show me," she requested softly, angling her body away so that Chat Noir could get a firm grip of the needle in her other hand. Until they finished patching him up, she wouldn't allow herself to feel completely relieved or drop her guard.

The superhero bit down on the leather glove again before taking the needle. He gritted his teeth while stabbing the needle into his skin—one stitch, two stitches, showing how much skin was necessary to keep from tearing later. He offered the needle to her, making a questioning noise to see if that was enough.

She nodded calmly, putting all her focus into stitching him up properly. Marinette mirrored his technique thoroughly and slowly, which meant that Chat Noir was to try and endure it for the time being. She knew he must be drained but if he could stay with her a little longer…

"Almost done."

"Hmm." Chat Noir did his best to remain cooperative; it was a bit harder with someone else doing the stitches since he couldn't prepare for the stab. But he endured the touch, clenching his jaw. The glove was probably ruined. It was a good thing that magic provided the suit.

Marinette had made a few more stitches before knotting the suture material and trimming away the rest. "There—"

Pulling away to observe the handiwork, she released a deep sigh and began to clean up. At hearing this, Chat Noir allowed himself to slump over completely, slipping off the edge of the tub to the far more stable floor. His head tipped back against the tub with a soft thud and he allowed himself to whimper and tremble now that he didn't have to be still. _He needed to never get shot again._

She stood and washed the equipment, drying them off and storing them under the sink before attending to the blood-stained tub. It was a relief to be able to watch the other come undone, as painful as the procedure has been. He deserved this much. "Do you need help standing?"

"Yes. In a few minutes. Maybe… twenty? What time is it?"

"Almost half-past-one," Marinette responded after a quick glance toward the clock above the sink, finding it difficult to look back at the other. He appeared deep in thought, staring at the ceiling.

He hadn't used Cataclysm, but hours transformed took Plagg's energy, too. A smile tugged the edge of his lips. "I… may need to ask for some cheese."

 _"Cheese?"_


	4. la métamorphose

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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iv.  
la métamorphose

 _Chaque blessure guérit._

* * *

Once the bath was tidied up, Marinette settled down beside the cat, placing a hand on his shoulder as he spoke. Obviously, the pain wasn't just going to disappear after the stitches. In fact, it was probably even worse now… she gave a light sigh and nodded in understanding.

If his Miraculous was anything like her own, there was a hungry and tired kwami involved. Of course, she'd play ignorant and pretend she didn't know that. "I can get some for you. And painkillers," she added, hoping they might help—if even a little. "You should just try laying down."

Not here on the tile, she wanted to say, but if he had trouble getting up then it might come to that.

"I would be quite grateful for both. I imagine I'll be feeling this quite a bit more as the magic recharges." He offered another tired grin, leaning into her touch.

It was… nice, actually.

He wasn't used to being tended to. Even when he was sick, he was just confined to his room and brought what he needed. There was never lingering concern or gentle touches of comfort.

 _"Half past one, huh?..._ Then I'll start beeping in about ten minutes," Chat Noir said, shifting to lay down on his uninjured side. He opened his eyes, spying the bloodied towel. "Sooner if you want me to take care of the evidence of treating a gunshot wound."

"Ten?" Marinette frowned. As much as she wanted Chat Noir to take a break, if it was his identity in danger, she would be quick as possible. She shook her head, "You can take care of that in a moment. I'll be right back!"

Hearing her nearly stumble in her haste to leave the bathroom, Chat chuckled and let his eyes drift closed. He couldn't fall asleep right now, far too worked up and in pain for that, but it helped the world settle around him. He could hear Marinette moving through the house if he paid attention, ears sensitive like his.

Marinette whispered frantically with Tikki as she crept downstairs. She really didn't want to wake her parents up... so with about as much dexterity as she could manage in the dark, she retrieved fresh wedges of cheese from the refrigerator as well as a bottle of pain relief medication and a glass of water—making her way up again. Sliding back into the bathroom, heart racing, she kneeled beside the relaxing cat and gently brushed some of the messy blonde hair from his face to draw his attention.

"Here, Chat Noir, have some water first."

He opened his eyes as he felt the gentle touch, leaning up and reaching for the glass. Taking a long drink. Right. Liquids, he'd have to remember that. She was so sweet, going through extra trouble just to protect his identity. He wasn't sure many people would do that.

"You really are too kind, Princess," he murmured. Marinette was relieved to see him down the glass of water. She released a deep sigh and moved to lean against the tub, knees drawn to her chest and slouching her shoulders in a lazy manner.

"It's nothing," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand and she meant it.

"It's not nothing—"

 _"Shh._ Drink."

He raised a brow and she laughed breathlessly.

As Chat eventually removed the glass from his lips, she unscrewed the cap of medication and spilled two painkillers into her palm, handing them over for him to take. If she was tired, she could only imagine how exhausted _he_ must have been. "If you need anything else, just let me know. I'll do my best."

He took the pills, swallowing them with the last of the water. "Not everyone can stitch up a silly kitty without preparation." Chat Noir allowed himself to slump over again.

"That… was pretty nerve-wracking," she admitted under her breath and he hummed. He started gathering up the bloodied items, albeit lazily. "I just need time at this point. And privacy. You have been an angel, but a secret identity must be a secret," he said, crumpling up the towel with the rest of the objects.

 _"Cataclysm."_ The items decayed into dust.

Marinette nodded and moved to stand again, shifting toward the bathroom entrance. With the evidence destroyed, there was no reason to worry anymore and she certainly wouldn't disrespect his request for privacy.

"I'll just be here, then."

"Thank you, Princess," Chat Noir murmured, watching her go.

A small yawn parted her lips as she closed the door for him and shuffled tiredly towards her bed. With a long huff, Marinette flopped onto her back and placed her pillow over her face. She wouldn't fall asleep in case she was still needed, but it wouldn't hurt to close her eyes now that things were calm again.

* * *

He waited for silence to surround him and once he felt Marinette was far enough away from the door, he took the cheese. Unwrapping it, and setting it nearby. Then, he braced himself and let go of the transformation.

The pain hit in a wave and he made a choked gasp as his endurance dropped.

"You—are an _idiot_." Plagg flopped over on the ground.

"I know."

"Where would I get my cheese if you had _died?!"_

"Your worry is duly noted," Adrien muttered dryly. Though, the fact that Plagg hadn't moved for the cheese right away displayed just how worried his kwami had been. "I'll live, but _you_ need to eat."

"Hmmm, it's no camembert, but I suppose it will do." Within moments, the tiny creature flitted over to devour the wedges of cheese placed out for him, patting his belly with small, contented hums.

"It was short notice and stinky cheese isn't the best with baked goods," a huff escaped the blonde and he stayed curled on his side, focused on Plagg eating. Really, how did something so tiny consume so much? [It was better to focus on than his own pain.]

Once Plagg was done, he settled down beside Adrien with a yawn. "Well, at least this way, I'll have a vacation!" Adrien was sure this was the kwami's way of saying, _'Take it easy for a few days so you don't get hurt again_.'

"Looks like. But it'll have to start tomorrow. I still need to get back," Adrien managed to say, only receiving an annoyed sigh from Plagg in return. It was still a few minutes before Plagg allowed Adrien to transform again. The increased endurance was a godsend and he was back in the his full outfit, the old shred of his suit gone, though Chat Noir still didn't move for a bit longer.

 _"Princess—_ it's safe to come in," he eventually called.

* * *

"Marinette, you did a good job for helping him out! Was it hard?"

A small voice chirped by her ear, automatically pulling her from her thoughts. Her kwami hadn't been there to see the suturing. Marinette felt queasy again just thinking about it.

"Yeah... I was really scared I'd mess up."

"You didn't, though! And he's okay now, thanks to you."

That was true. She wasn't too sure what was happening in the bathroom, [detransformation, most likely], but Marinette didn't care so long as Chat Noir was alright. Even if she may not seem like it, as Marinette she did care for the other. He was her friend, someone she considered close and important to her without needing to know the face behind the mask.

The sound of him calling for her got her attention.

Honestly, the nickname was just so _silly_ but she wouldn't bother correcting him. Marinette slipped out of bed, blue fringe sticking up and pillow gathered in her arms as she opened the bathroom door again. He looked more or less 'alright'. Still exhausted, but a little less pained and the color had returned to his face again.

She knew how difficult it was to stay transformed for too long. An unhappy and worried Tikki often scolded her afterward. With a mild smile, Marinette took a seat on the edge of the scratched tub, pressing the pillow closer to her chest. "Feeling a bit better?"

"I am," he nodded, rolling onto his back to look up at her and she visibly deflated at the response. He studied her for a few moments before reaching out, resting his hand on her knee. "How are _you?_ I'm sure this isn't at all how you imagined your evening would go."

Blinking, the girl tensed for just a moment before lifting a hand to rub her nape. It was a sheepish gesture. Her state wasn't nearly as concerning as his had been. "Oh, um… I'm fine, too. Don't worry about me."

"Can't be helped. A knight is _always_ concerned for his princess." Chat Noir flashed her a teasing grin. It wasn't his usual energy, of course, but he wanted to assure her. He was stable, he would be fine. She didn't need to fret over him anymore.

"Maybe in the storybooks." With a quiet sigh, she leaned forward to rest her cheeks in her palms, elbows propped on the pillow in her lap. "Tonight was eventful for both of us, huh?" Despite the annoyance she constantly showed in other circumstances, Marinette was glad to see Chat Noir smiling at her and joking around, especially when he was so tired. It allowed her to feel more at ease compared to the overly concerned and awkward air around her earlier.

He laughed, closing his eyes.

"Indeed. I must say, you handle a crisis beautifully. I suspected you were capable of such, but I think it must be quite a sight to see you going when someone isn't distracted." Trying to not cry out in pain was rather distracting. The fact she had been so steady had done a lot to help him keep himself under control.

"—Beautifully?" she repeated, but the amusement in her tone was evident. "I was a mess! _Mon chaton_ , you're very lucky to have survived my first attempt at giving stitches." A soft laugh parted her own lips, "I can't say I'm surprised, though. You handled it really well, too."

 _"Ah, ah."_ He wagged a finger at her. "For a first time, it was handled beautifully. If you want messes, you should have seen the first time I went after an Akumatized villain without Ladybug. Safe to say, I'm glad they don't remember anything because— _that?_ Was embarrassing," he explained with a dramatic sigh and slightly reddened cheeks. "But, as with everything, practice makes perfect. Get thrown into enough furniture and walls and you learn how to control your reactions."

Marinette appeared intrigued by this information. _How_ had it gone without Ladybug? The idea of Chat Noir getting hurt was something that made her sick to her stomach, but it must not have been too serious with how flustered he was getting.

She visibly cringed. "I know, right?"

Wait, don't _agree!_ Marinette wasn't the one being thrown into furniture and walls!

"I mean, that would hurt. A lot. I guess you must be pretty used to dangerous situations. This probably came as more of a surprise than anything you could have been prepared for."

He was, perhaps, being too cavalier. He was tired, and for a moment it sounded like Marinette understood the feeling. "It is oddly strange that I got this hurt by something so mundane. Almost funny, but it's alright. I'm built to last. This time next week, I'll be jumping around like nothing happened."

"Chat Noir…"

He could see that she wasn't convinced, but he continued without a hitch. "Let me tell you about my first fight. You're curious, aren't you?"

Marinette blushed. Was it obvious?

"It was _paw_ sitively terrible. I had tried to be smart, had practiced with my abilities so I didn't hurt anyone or get myself killed. Luckily, I had taken some fighting classes, it made me ready for combat. Somewhat."

"…What happened?"

Chat Noir lifted a hand, lightly tugging on an ear. "Well, what I hadn't practiced was the cat instincts. We ended up near a seafood restaurant and I got distracted by the most wonderful smell. Which… turned out to be fish guts." He sighed, shaking his head. "Got sent flying into the poor worker taking it out to the trash. The worst part was I had to fight while trying to not lick myself clean. The smell eventually drove the Akuma away and I had to take five baths before I stopped smelling delicious."

There was such a put-upon expression on his face that Marinette found herself howling with laughter. "I bet you weren't so delicious for everyone else!"

"Oh, far from it. Luckily my ride knew I was near the trouble as a civilian, so I had an excuse, but I swear it was the first time I had seen his expression change in months," Chat Noir added with a sheepish smile. He was sorry having to leave airing out the car to the Gorilla, but he had desperately needed to shower by then.

She pressed the heel of her palm to her mouth to stifle a stray giggle or two.

"I wonder what Ladybug would have said if she'd been there," she teased and maybe it was terrible, but what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"If there was one thing lucky about that incident, it's that she _wasn't_. Not exactly one of my best moments. No, no, I think I prefer this just being our little secret."

"Secret, right… _Ah!"_ The realization came hurling toward her. "Are you okay on the floor?" It couldn't be comfortable at all. "I can help you up to my bed, or…"

The hero blinked at the sudden change of topic. "It would probably be better to move to something more comfortable. Especially as I'll still need to make the trek back home eventually." Things he was not looking forward to? _That_. He started to move to sit up, hissing softly at the dull pain.

Marinette immediately moved to help him as he sat up, noting this expression flicker across his features. "There's no rush."

She hooked an arm around his waist and adjusted his over her shoulder, taking care of any unnecessary movements that might put strain on his body. As they stumbled out of the bathroom door, she knew Tikki had slipped away to hide again.

 _"Easy now,"_ she murmured as she led him to the daybed, carefully nudging him onto the covers.


	5. le contact humain

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

v.  
le contact humain

 _Ils s'entendent bien._

* * *

Chat Noir was kind of precious, Marinette decided. When he wasn't constantly flirting—which she admitted, was _sometimes_ endearing in its own right—the cat had an admirable sense of humor in the face of adversity, embarrassment, and especially pain.

She wondered why it took her so long to realize this.

Maybe without the presence of her mask, he acted more like himself. And naturally, so did she.

"When do you have to leave?"

"I have to be home by morning. I'm supposed to be at school. It'll be red flags if I don't show up for my ride." He appeared a bit flustered, "Though, I suppose we're both going to be tired for school tomorrow. I am sorry about that, Princess."

"I have about…" A glance at the clock in her room, and she wrinkled her nose, "Six more hours before I need to be up." Not too bad. Some nightly patrols as Ladybug had the girl arriving home so late that she'd be shamelessly asleep in class the next day.

With a dismissive wave of the hand, she crawled up onto the covers on the opposite end, crossing her legs and slouching her shoulders lazily. Fingers shifted to tame her ruffled fringe as she sincerely assured him, "But, it's not a big deal."

Marinette had completely disregarded the implications of a boy in her bed. This was _Chat Noir_ , after all, and she was comfortable in his company.

And Chat Noir was also finding it nice to talk to Marinette. It was always easier to relax, to be himself like this. Adrien had to be perfect. Adrien couldn't make mistakes. Chat Noir could. Chat Noir could make bad jokes, be the fool, _look bad._ It was freeing, but there were still some masks over his mask.

He had to be a reassurance for Ladybug and that meant acting consistent and not burdening her.

Chat Noir shifted over to give her room. He was too injured to care about being in the same bed as a girl. It's not as if anyone would know. "If you're sure," he said quietly. She seemed tired a lot. He didn't want to make it any harder for her.

A pause and her voice dropped _. "You_ , on the other hand… Will you even be able to go to school? Maybe—maybe you should skip? Until you're healed and feeling better, _non—?_ "

The question was inevitable. He frowned and shook his head. "I don't let myself miss school unless it's absolutely necessary. It would be out of character for me unless I could convince them I was really down for the count." He shrugged. "I can manage. I just have to be careful."

Marinette seemed unconvinced, concern etched clearly across her features. "Doesn't this count as necessary?"

"Can't walk straight is necessary," Chat Noir responded. Usually of his own choice. He had to be that bad to skip work, but he knows he could get off school for less. Except, he never wanted to—school was noise and life and people.

Nino knew he liked school better than home. Even his father knew he loved public school. Being late or skipping would get the type of attention he really didn't want. He had no excuse for it.

She wasn't trying to dissuade him from his responsibilities, but she wanted the other to be alright... and while Marinette knew nothing about his family life or even _what_ school he attended, she couldn't help but add, "What if someone notices that you're hurting?"

"I still take those training classes. I get a lot of one on one time with the teacher, so I can usually brush off my bruises from that. As long as I just act like it's a bad bruise, I should be able to avoid any problems. The only one who'd be tricky is my best friend; he'll catch me by surprise sometimes with physical affection." He could usually see Chloé coming more often than Nino, anyway.

At this, the girl grew silent for a long moment. She drew her legs to her chest again, propping her chin on her knees and brooding a little. "I… can't speak for Ladybug, but—" She was cutting it pretty close here but she didn't care, "—I think she'd want you to take it easy, too."

Chat Noir took a deep breath, letting it out.

"I know," he muttered. "My Lady is extremely kind and I know she worries about me." He could still remember how intense she had been about stopping Chrono Girl—how his life depended on it had _terrible_ implications with time travel. "But, I only have so much freedom under the mask. If I'm perfect with everything else, then transgressions caused by the mask are ignored. I don't… like risking other things. I can deal with an injury."

He was frowning at the ceiling. His father was always looking for an excuse to take him out of public school. He didn't want to push his luck.

Little by little, she was given more clues about Chat Noir's real life. She wouldn't keep at it if this freedom was something important to him. "…I understand."

Really, she did. Marinette wasn't perfect with everything else, like him. The mask was an extension of her personality, another form in which she was more confident, bold. She could be of help, aid those in need, keep her loved ones safe… But she didn't favor her superhero life over her civilian one.

The frown that was settled on Chat Noir's lips nearly mirrored her own and Marinette was moved by the tense atmosphere, so used to seeing the playful and energetic side of her partner.

Without thinking, the girl had reached over to gently and brush her fingers through his hair, petting him much like the kitty cat he resembled.

"If you ever need something, _euh_. Feel free to stop by anytime."

It was kind of a lame offer, but she knew he wouldn't be telling anyone else about the stitches—probably not even Ladybug. She had to step up as Marinette and assure him that he wasn't as alone as his words made her feel he was.

He started as he felt the fingers in his hair, blinking at her. However, as the petting continued, he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Listened to the offer.

He _had_ been talking too much.

Part of him felt guilty, felt like he took advantage. But it had been so long since someone had taken care of him and it was so nice and that coupled with his exhaustion… it was difficult to keep his guard up. He wanted to let all the things slip which he usually kept wrapped up tight. For all that Plagg was dear to him, emotions were far from his strong suit. It was nice to have this tenderness.

He knew he couldn't tell Ladybug what happened. She'd feel guilty and he didn't dare risk her thinking he couldn't handle himself.

"It's a very sweet offer, Princess. I feel I should apologize. I suppose the stress has caught up tonight."

Neither a rejection nor an acceptance. It was a good middle ground.

She shook her head, denying the apology. There was no reason for him to feel bad for this. Marinette had made it obvious enough that she was more worried for his safety than losing a couple hours of sleep before school. "Like I said. It's not a problem, _chaton_."

Slim fingers continued to gently stroke through the soft strands and Chat Noir leaned further for her hand. It felt nice. It felt _really_ nice. He couldn't help but purr softly, relaxing under her touch, compelled to speak some more, "This isn't… something I find easy to talk about. It was bound to happen at some point. My Lady prefers to keep things professional and, honestly, her presence makes it easy to forget anything unpleasant."

It was so easy to be happy around her. The moments of heartache were mere blips compared to the light she brought to his life.

"And I wouldn't want to burden her. She has the more difficult job, I'm just the support. With other options limited, I shouldn't be surprised it boiled over."

"E— _eeh?"_ It upset her, the admissions Chat Noir was making. While she was aware of the other's adoration of Ladybug, she had no idea that he felt… like _that_ , like something of a sidekick, inadequate at handling disturbances in the city alone. She awkwardly raised her free hand to rub her cheek, gaze flickering to the side.

"You shouldn't think like that."

Once the suffocating sensation in her chest had scattered into something much calmer, she released a deep sigh. "She wouldn't be burdened. I'm sure she thinks just as highly of you and your wellbeing, so you can be more honest..."

He opened an eye, studying Marinette. She really _was_ distressed. Because he thought like that? Did it sound so bad? He'd… never had a problem with it, he was happy to just be beside her. "I know she thinks highly of me. For all she thinks I'm a silly kitten, she wouldn't trust me so if she didn't think I was capable. And, of course, she cares," he chuckled. He wanted to make sure she always did and that her trust wasn't unwarranted.

"Hm," the bluenette lowered her gaze. Still, putting it _that_ way… "I get it, but even if she's the one purifying the Akuma, _both_ of you work hard to get that far. Um, from what everyone can tell! Say, Chat Noir, how many times have you saved her life? And vice versa?" A sheepish smile was offered to the superhero. "You're not the support. You're a team."

"Ah, I'm not talking down about myself!" he quickly assured her, amused, and the girl blushed again. "But, it's a matter of perspective. Have you ever noticed how much more popular Ladybug is? It's for good reason. Between the two of us, Paris needs _her._ If I was lost, Paris could still be saved because she's there."

There were days he did wonder if she would be better on her own. If he was just in the way.

His hand draped over his middle. He could still feel the wound's ache.

He closed his eyes as Marinette released a frustrated sigh.

"The difference is that Paris needs her. But, _she_ needs _me_." Right? Because if there was one thing this wound reminded him of, is the fact they were still human. That was something he couldn't afford to forget. Not for his sake, but hers.

Ladybug _could_ do the job alone if she had to, but she was human, and she would just have to make one mistake. Just one and it'd be over. He needed to think of that. He needed to see that she needed protection, too. "She saves the victims and the city. I make sure she can do that."

"But, you…" Maybe it _was_ true, but Ladybug had never taken the time to think about the fame, the popularity that came with being a superheroine. She was so used to Chat Noir's presence that to fight without him just felt strange and out of the ordinary.

Not that she was unable to handle the situation herself, but, working together was easier and his protection, his help was always welcomed.

She supposed Chat Noir had a point. He called her caring, and yet she had done nothing to compare. "You're... so selfless." He was more than just a catalyst, he was someone she needed even if she hadn't thought to admit it before. "Ladybug is really lucky to have you as her partner."

"Well, I love this city." Chat Noir smiled at her as she spoke, voice soft, fond. It was a beautiful city. Full of life, and when he was allowed to experience it without schedules and timetables, he enjoyed seeing how people live their lives.

"And I love her. It's only natural to want to protect what I love."

Oh, right

Love.

Before she could respond, a voice snapped them both out of the conversation.

 _"Marinette?"_


	6. bonne nuit

_A/N: this chapter is a bit shorter, i apologize for that. the next will have a lot more happening! thanks so much to those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed! ;u;_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

vi.  
bonne nuit

 _Fais de beaux rêves, ma chère._

* * *

Jumping up, Marinette quickly flicked the nearest lamp off and draped the rest of the blanket over Chat Noir.

He had almost bolted, just barely restrained himself, because there was no way to do it fast enough and stay quiet. She gently wrapped an arm around him in an attempt to appear asleep and he bit his lip to keep himself making any startled noises, relaxed, went limp against her. He was a pillow. He couldn't be stiff.

When the small entrance to her room opened, a head peering inside, Marinette squeezed her eyes shut and tried to steady the frantic beating of her heart.

"Oh, you're asleep."

 _"Oui, Papaaa…?"_ A groggy response was offered, surprisingly convincing.

"Nothing, nothing. I heard a noise earlier so I was just checking to make sure you're alright. Go back to sleep, _ma chérie."_

"Mm, _d'accord."_

Only after he left did Marinette release a deep sigh. She peeled the blanket off of her friend, quickly apologizing, "Sorry, are you okay? I panicked."

He had held his breath the entire time, kept his panic under wraps because he didn't want her father to notice him. He'd met him before and Chat Noir didn't want to deal with such a large man while injured—seeing as this situation was probably odd to the onlooker.

It was… sweet, though.

Her father checked on her himself. It must be nice.

[The arm around him was _also_ nice, but he tried not to think too much about that.]

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "That was quick thinking."

"I guess." A sigh passed her lips. With the lights off, she couldn't see him as well anymore and Marinette flopped lazily back against the mattress, curling up close to him. "Papa knows Chat Noir, so he wouldn't be mad to find out that you're here." Surely. As large and strong as the man was, he was about as intimidating as a flower. "But… _explaining_ things might be a bit difficult."

"Ah, there is a difference between knowing a hero and discovering a strange boy in his daughter's bed. I would rather not provoke a father who only wants to protect his daughter from alley cats."

Especially as his wound was no longer obvious. Excuses would be a lot harder to make and it wasn't as though he could show off his wound with his suit repaired. [Really, did it _have_ to be like a second skin?]

"Ally cat, hm?" Looking at it like that, he… made sense. She wasn't sure her father would appreciate finding them in the same bed, even as much as he liked Chat Noir. A light roll of the eyes followed the pun he'd made and Marinette had to fight the urge to reach over and ruffle his hair again.

She chuckled quietly and teased, "You know, you don't make a bad pillow."

Well, she had been too focused on staying silent than on the cat she'd spooned just minutes ago. But, so long as she hadn't hurt him in the position, Marinette saw no harm in joking around. If her arm had been lower, it'd be another story. That might be uncomfortable, but, luckily, he could ignore the twinges of pain higher up.

Regardless, he felt his face go red. Chat Noir was glad it was dark; she wouldn't be able to see him as well as he could see her.

"It's only natural, Princess. Cats are lap pets for a reason. We're _purr_ ty soft," he drawled, a hand on his chest, a grin on his face and in his voice.

"Definitely. What was I thinking?"

By this point, her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could make the outline of his form as well as various other objects in the room. Her alarm clock glowed from the bedside, illuminating the numbers, 3:08. Had they been talking for so long? She hadn't noticed the time pass.

"Are you… Are you still planning to leave?"

"…I have to. I'll be noticed in the morning. If they figured out I was sneaking out at night, it'd be worse than skipping school. Knowing my luck, he'd blame my best friend," he said with a huff. "I'm more of a bad boy than him, but he's the bad influence?" Nino was relaxed and chill, hardly the type to go sneak out in the middle of the night and get into fights.

 _He'd blame my best friend_. Marinette couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but she figured that Chat Noir was referring to his father. Whoever his family was, he didn't seem to talk about them fondly. The bluenette knew better than to push. Things didn't sound easy for him.

"Ah, no— _yeah—_ I get it. It's not fair to your or your friend. In that case, you should get home before morning," she suggested. A small yawn escaped her and she became silent.

Chat Noir paused. His father was... complicated. Without a doubt, he loved his father and he knew his father loved him, in his own way. He could remember kindness when he was younger. When his mother was still around. Even now, he would at least say he'd try to find time in his schedule for Adrien and would compensate with money when he didn't—which was all the time.

It was evidence, though, wasn't it? His father cared. He was just terrible at showing it. But, if he was good enough, made his father's work easier, made it so he never had to waste his time punishing or lecturing Adrien, then maybe one of these days he'd get the man to actually spend time with him.

Maybe he'd finally get approval.

On the other hand, there were days he was angry, bitter. Not for outright rebellion, but it was why he fought tooth and nail to keep going to school, to have Nino be allowed in his home. It was why he kept taking the risks to be Chat Noir. It was worth the price and maybe a petty part of him relished in the defiance.

"I know," the hero finally stated, looking over and offering the girl a reassuring smile. "I can take my time now, so I will. But, you should sleep."

Marinette was prepared to protest, but he continued speaking, "As much as beauty sleep is unnecessary for a princess like yourself, it'll probably make tomorrow easier for you. I'll head out soon. I'm starting to get my second wind."

She never would quite understand how 'Princess' came to be her nickname. She supposed that was just Chat Noir being his ridiculous self. Marinette huffed fondly, dismissing the comment about beauty sleep.

However, it was true that it had been getting increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. Especially now that all the tension and stress from earlier was beginning to take its toll on the girl. Marinette half-heartedly attempted to sit up but this resulted in failure so she shifted to slide her legs under the covers instead.

She loosened the pigtails in her hair. Once the blue locks fell to brush her shoulders, she relaxed again and tucked the covers under her chin while closing her eyes.

"Alright. You're welcome to head back whenever you want. Just be careful, please. And make sure to get a lot of rest." His injury would slow him down, no doubt, and it was important that he try not to stumble into more danger on his way.

"I will. I'll sleep in as much as I'm allowed and everything," Chat Noir sounded sincere, raising one hand, the other on his chest. "I swear it."

As long as he promised to take it easy, she was reassured. "You better not just be saying that, _chaton._ Good luck tomorrow at school. I… hope you feel better soon." [Marinette was naturally a caring person, so to downplay her concern never ended convincingly.] _"Bonne nuit,"_ the girl eventually mumbled as she turned onto her other side, facing opposite of the hero.

Huh… The more he was around her, the more he saw a fire, an energy. She wasn't as overt as Chloé, so _P_ _rincess_ seemed like an apt title for someone who could both be sweet and quiet, and honest and strong.

Plus, she was adorable, Chat Noir couldn't help but think so when she was looking out for him like this.

 _"Bonne nuit,_ Marinette," he whispered back. He grew still, listening for her breathing to even out. It hadn't taken long. Perhaps the day's events had exhausted her, or perhaps it was Chat Noir's comforting presence, but Marinette was fast asleep within just a few minutes.

He waited a few minutes longer, before slowly pushing himself up. He was careful to leave her room without making a noise—this time, using baton much more carefully to maneuver the rooftops.

He'd have to thank her somehow. For now, he just wanted to go home and pass out.


	7. vendre la mèche

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

vii.  
vendre la mèche

 _J'étais aveugle._

* * *

"Oh, no, no, no— _merde…"_

Pulling hard was a mistake. The string snapped too early and Marinette was left huffing and sliding the entire piece out. She restarted, poking her needle into the fabric and diligently embroidering.

A dress. White and blue with a couple of intricate floral designs on the bust and hem. Of course, she had yet to put the final thing together, labeled pieces placed aside to be attached at the end. Alya was slightly broad-shouldered and she possessed more curves than the bluenette. [Marinette was a bit jealous of her. What would it take to have a bigger chest? Seriously. These were things she needed to know.] For this reason, she was glad to have saved her friend's measurements from an earlier project to avoid making something that wouldn't even fit her. After all, her best friend's birthday was in less than twenty-four hours and she hadn't had any time to finish these embellishments.

Her week had been grueling; schoolwork, tests, student council duties—and to top it off, Akumatized villains seemed to become more and more common so Ladybug and Chat Noir were in a constant demand. The kitty cat, however, had been absent and for good reason. She had no idea why as Ladybug but Marinette knew full well that he required as much rest as possible to get better after the injury he'd received.

With a sigh, she lowered her needle and pressed her hands to her cheeks, slumping forward at her desk. "Marinette, maybe you should take a break?" Tikki fluttered towards the girl, hovering by her shoulder as she offered the suggestion.

"I can't, I need to get this done as soon as possible," frowning, lips pursed in a pout, "Not only that, but it has to be perfect!"

"You need to make time for homework, too, you know. Remember last time when Madame caught you doing it in class?"

Looking a bit sheepish, Marinette then leaned back in her chair and huffed. She appeared to consider something before her eyes widened and panic crossed features. The girl briefly scanned her desk as well as the box of materials at her feet, searching for—"Ribbon! I totally forgot to buy ribbon!"

She hopped out of her seat, gripping her pigtails in frustration. "Aah, do you think I'll be able to run out and get some now? What time is it?" Frantically, the aspiring designer checked her phone and groaned. Oh, _right._ Most stores were closed on Sundays.

Her best bet was to head down there after school tomorrow, finish the dress, and get to Alya's house immediately afterwards.

* * *

Adrien had effectively been under house arrest.

Ah, he could still go about his day to day life. Luckily, fencing had been on hold while his teacher took a much-needed vacation after his Akuma incident, so he didn't have to worry about that – and the gym teacher was far more forgiving on him not feeling well than his father skipping school. His reputation helped with that, at least. [If Adrien said he feeling queasy, well, it was the truth!]

But, Chat Noir? There had been none of that. Not even when he was desperate to help Ladybug or even check on her. Plagg had been playing hide and seek all week. The only reason he knew the kwami was around was because the cheese he tended to leave out still mysteriously disappeared.

After a week, the benefits of being a Miraculous holder came into his play and his wound had healed. It was sensitive and ached on occasion, but there was no real risk of it opening again. Taking out his stitches had been fun, but...well, it didn't compare to getting them in. Plagg had also finally returned and promptly ignored all of Adrien's protests, pointing out it was for his own good.

"You don't have to be _that_ self-sacrificing," his kwami pointed out in annoyance.

"What if she had really needed me?!"

"She managed. It's better than you dying."

Adrien sighed and shook his head. _No_ , none of that mattered. What did, was catching up on some freedom and paying some people back. He had transformed, and the first thing he did was try to call Ladybug.

Of course, the call didn't get through, which was far from surprising. She probably wasn't transformed. He'd try again that night and… do what he could to explain himself. For now, he had someone else to pay a visit, too.

At least, he had been well enough to go out shopping the past few days.

He may have become a bit zealous, but a large duffel bag would be hard to carry as _Adrien_.

A grin tilted his lips.

* * *

It was good to run again. To enjoy the fresh air and elevation, the lack of restrictions. Soon enough, he was at the bakery. Chat Noir scanned the area, making sure no one was paying attention before landing on the balcony. He pressed his ear to the hatch, listening for movement.

What he _heard_ was Marinette yelling about time, but there was only one step of footsteps. Surely, if she was late, so was the other, and both would be moving. He could offer his services when it came to travel! He knocked on the hatch loudly in hopes that she might hear over her panic attack.

It worked, and her attention was drawn to the ceiling. Marinette blinked. Who was up there? Her first instinct was to check, but after a little consideration, she came to the name of the only other person she knew who could vault over rooftops to get here.

She would have been slightly irritated, given the current situation, but Marinette hadn't seen him in nearly a week—needless to say, she was worried.

Climbing up and unlocking the hatch, she met the vivid green eyes of her favorite feline, _"Chat Noir!_ What are you doing here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" The questions slipped past her lips in a rapid fire, not allowing him the opportunity to answer them consecutively.

Chat Noir laughed and a mild pink painted her cheeks, embarrassed about going off at him like that. It had been a spur of the moment thing, too blinded with concern to notice that he appeared to be just fine. [She could go at it when she was emotionally invested, couldn't she? It was cute if he was honest, but it did make it a bit hard to talk.]

"In reverse order. No, I'm not hurt. Yes, I am okay. And I'm here because I've finally been cleared for rooftop travel and to deliver a present," he spoke smoothly, patting the duffel at his side.

 _"Good, good!"_ Marinette had ducked her head, starting back down to let the other inside just as he mentioned something about a gift. "You—didn't have to get me anything," she sheepishly told him, eyeing the duffel from her position. It was a terribly sweet gesture, but she was just glad to find that her partner had healed and was back on the prowl for adventure. No pun intended.

He'd seen her blush plenty of times, she seemed to do it often around Adrien. Yet, seeing her like this and still managing words? There was something very attractive about that. It took everything in Chat Noir to not try and get her to do it again.

He hopped down, tugging the duffel bag from over his shoulder. "I know, but you helped me a great deal, Princess, and it's rude to not do the favor somehow. And before you argue about saving your life, I'm a superhero and that hardly counts when you're a superhero." He didn't want people to owe him for that. It was his decision to become one and it certainly wasn't to make people indebted to him. It was for himself, for what he thought was right, and his desire to have a positive impact on the world and Marinette supposed she could understand this. She wouldn't want anyone to feel that way towards Ladybug, either.

She was about to question him just as he tilted his head with a grin. "But, I suppose the present can wait. If you're late for something, Princess, I would be happy to get you there. It's amazing how much time you save when you can go in a straight line instead of dealing with _streets."_

"Ah! If only it wasn't Sunday…" Her voice rose with thinly veiled distress, eyes suddenly teary. "I, um, I needed to stop by the crafts store a few blocks from here to buy ribbon. But, everything is closed today—so I…"

He blinked at her, noting the drastic change in her tone and Marinette struggled to keep her composure.

"Ribbon? Well, you may be in luck, my dear!" Chat Noir kneeled and unzipped the bag to show off quite a bit of supplies, and her eyes widened. There was fabric, [some incredibly expensive ones at that], thread, needles, replacement parts for her sewing machine, [he may be a bit too familiar with machine brands], outfit patterns, and, of course, _ribbon_.

Picking up several tubes with rolls of ribbon on them, he held them out to her. "Are any of these the color you need?"

"Yes!" the girl nearly squealed out the word, leaning closer to survey the spools of shiny tape. He had even brought the exact shade of blue she was been looking for. Had he seriously meant to give all of this to her? […He may have gone overboard, but he was pretty sure his father would accept it if he just said he was buying a present for a friend. There were plenty of designers at school.]

 _"Chat Noir!"_ Unable to help herself, Marinette lunged forward and tackled the cat in a hug, grinning. He jumped, tail and ears going straight up in his shock. Eventually, he chuckled and wrapped his arms loosely around her to return the gesture. Had she the strength, she would have lifted him in her arms and spun him around without wasting a second. _"Merci, merci, merci…!"_

A hug of gratitude. Chat Noir hadn't expected it, but it was certainly a pleasant surprise. He had been lacking affection with Nino giving him space due to his 'rather nasty bruises from falling down the stairs.'

The female clung to him, nuzzled his cheek, and it caused him to melt a little bit. That was especially nice with his feline instincts in full force. He could barely fight back the urge to knead her waist. She was all too suddenly drawing away while slipping the tubes from between his fingers. Blue eyes flickered, cheeks glowing a happy pink. "Are you sure I can have this?"

Her heart was soaring, stomach fluttering at the fact that he had gone through the trouble to get this for her. While Marinette was hardly the type of person to grow attached to possessions or focus on material gain, appreciative of her parents and the amount of money her family earned... she could easily consider this one of the best gifts she'd received in her life.

After her kwami, but, that was a different story entirely.

 _"Bien sûr."_ Chat Noir beamed. "If there is one thing I don't need to worry about, it's money. I heard _the_ Gabriel Agreste approved of one of your designs, so it must be your passion. And I do love seeing a passionate _purr_ incess."

"Gabriel Agreste?" she repeated. _Adrien's father!_ He had chosen her hat design, and remembering the look the blonde had flashed her in that moment of truth still had Marinette swooning. [Even if it had resulted in a lot of sneezing – who could blame her? She didn't know he was allergic to feathers!] The smile remained bright on Marinette's features, even as she humbly rubbed her nape. _"Euh,_ my passion… Yeah. You can say that. I want to become a designer someday. It'll take some work, but I'm determined to follow through with it."

"I have a fondness for fashion and a great respect for those who can make such beautiful designs. It's not as if I just picked materials for a _mademoiselle_ such as yourself at random." He winked at her, preening slightly. While model work had grown dull, [there was only so much he could be told to smile or stand like this before it was repetitive], he still had a love for the process of making the clothes. Everyone always seemed so ardent about it, and to put their work on the line like that, it was impressive.

"I'm sure you'll get far. If you can impress one of the biggest names in fashion now, you can only be spectacular when you're done with school."

"I…" Her ears turned red at this comment, unable to form a response. _"Ahaha…"_

She had always held Chat Noir in high regard, but lately, her opinion of him was beginning to change. For the better, not for the worse—she _knew_ how selfless and compassionate he was under the normally audacious display, but to show these facets to an ordinary girl like herself when he certainly had no obligation to was… nice.

Marinette mumbled something of gratitude before she shifted her attention to the pieces of the dress on her desk. Moving to sit, she placed the ribbon spools neatly aside to attach last. Unable to waste time now that she had all her supplies, she resumed embroidering petals into the soft white fabric. In her haste, she wouldn't end up making as many mistakes as she would repeatedly pricking herself so a small box of adhesive bandages was set aside, as well.

 _"Seriously..._ I can't thank you enough," the bluenette continued, though she kept her gaze downwards as she plucked the threads and adjusted them in a neat pattern. "You're a lifesaver, _chaton—_ I would have been stressed all night if it wasn't for you."

Chat Noir almost snorted as she dove into her work. Oh, yes, he _definitely_ liked seeing his princess so passionate! It was a good look on her, and the dress was beautiful from what he could tell. "I'm glad to have at least saved you one night of sleep after ruining another," he sheepishly laughed, perching on the daybed to watch her work.

He didn't have anywhere to be for a while and he didn't want to change back. He was enjoying watching her work. And actually _talk_ to her. He had tried several times as Adrien during the week, but he swore, there might actually be a cat following him who liked tongues with how much _hers_ seemed stolen away around him.

She was glad that her back was turned to the cat, sensing him shuffle to settle on her bed, and did her best to focus on the matters quite literally at hand. Once she was sure the heat in her face had scattered elsewhere, she glanced back at the cat with something of a pout, brow dipping. "No way. You didn't ruin it last time, either. I'm happy I was there to help."

"Just because you were happy to help doesn't mean it didn't ruin your sleep," he argued amiably. "You can ruin your sleep doing things that aren't negative, after all." That was usually the case with him, anyway. Late night patrols with his Lady were the best.

Even if he was right, Marinette remained adamant in letting him know that she hadn't minded. "It only matters that you're feeling better now." Tilting her head, she allowed her eyes to scan him not so discreetly. "…Right? Did you get the stitches out?" A week was too early. Healing powers were a gift. She wouldn't ask him to show her with how stubborn these suits were—skintight and difficult to remove—but there was no harm in asking to make sure.

"I did."

Chat Noir intentionally left out the fact he did it himself instead of finding a doctor. Nothing went wrong, so it wasn't a point of concern. "Such is the way of ancient magic. It wants cheese and makes sure you're healthy faster," he smirked, wiggling his fingers in a mysterious fashion. His reassurance caused her to relax and she offered a half-smile, a little roll of the eyes at the evasive statement regarding magic and cheese.

He then crossed his legs, patting his side where the injury was without flinching. "It's tender but no worse than the bruises crime fighting brings regularly. It doesn't even seem like it'll scar too badly."

He'd have to make sure to get makeup whenever he went to the beach or had to show off a swimsuit, but the less obvious the scar, the easier it was to cover up.

"That's great. I— _we—_ hadn't heard from you in a while so ..."

 _"Oh?~_ Missed me, Princess?" he asked with a wicked grin, having noticed the slip. She truly had been worried about him and it warmed his heart to have someone so concerned for him, even if he felt guilty for causing it in the first place.

She smiled a little sadly and he instantly felt bad for teasing her, "Sure. Anyway, I hope this means you'll be more careful from now on."

"Mhm, I'll be keeping track of numbers. And no more forgetting that humans can be dangerous."

"Good. Paris will be relieved to know that you're okay."

Paris. _"Hah,_ maybe. The LadyBlog has been full of so many theories. Some people actually believe I just abandoned Ladybug!" Chat Noir huffed, sounding offended. _Like he would ever! "_ Others are worried that I'm dead."

The theories that said Chat Noir had abandoned Ladybug were ridiculous. Marinette hadn't batted a lash toward them. It was the ones that speculated _death…_ Her chest felt tight just thinking about. Thinking about how her stitches hadn't enough, thinking about every possibly way the situation from that night a week ago could have gone wrong.

"I'll be doing a patrol tonight, see if I can reassure people. Perhaps hover around Alya's neighborhood, if you'd give me a location?" He did have some idea where she lived thanks to Nino, but Chat Noir wouldn't have an obvious reason for it.

"Alya lives a few blocks away from my house, not quite as close to the school." Marinette proceeded to list off directions to her best friend's neighborhood, smiling at the thought of the cat lurking around so people could confirm that he was alive and well now.

She made a mental note to patrol as Ladybug tonight, too.

"I'll see if I can swing by and get her attention." He thanked her. She just nodded, a little distracted. And as her gaze shifted to poking the fabric, she dropped the needle in her lap, fingertips stinging. Bringing them to her lips, she mumbled something annoyed under her breath and peeled the backing off a few small bandages, wrapping them around her index fingers before easily returning to the floral patterns.

His eyes scanned his surroundings now that silence had settled between them. It was an awfully cute room. Full of so many pinks and pastels. Warm, lived in, and so many clothes and posters and pictures of—

Wait, _what?_

He stared over at the corner by Marinette's computer.

Yes, those were pictures of him. Was that him in a _frame?_

More than halfway done, Marinette decided she would begin sewing the parts of the dress together in the next several minutes. She hummed thoughtfully, lowering her needle onto the desk, knotting the thread, snipping away the excess.

"How does this look?" She held up the piece of fabric for Chat Noir to see. Long, delicate blue flowers seemed to grow from one corner to the other, all looping stems and tiny leaves. "Should I add a few more?"

He jumped and snapped to attention when Marinette turned to him. The fabric? He tilted his head, hand cupping his chin in thought as he looked it over. "…Depends on when you intend for it to be worn," he finally murmured. "If it's formal, yes. Formal events beg for subtle intricacies. But, if it's more casual, or semi-formal, that a lighter design is better. Then the person doesn't appear to be trying too hard, but still looks good."

Marinette paused, resting the fabric in her lap and smoothing it out. "Hm… a semi-formal design would suit this the best, I think. I'll just leave it at that. Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's a good call. More opportunity to wear it and a princess original deserves to be worn." That was always the shame of some of the more beautiful clothes, knowing they'd only ever be worn once. So much work and effort, to only shine once.

"You're _too_ much," she chuckled bashfully and stood, moving to the opposite side of the room to retrieve her sewing machine from the corner. She had a little trouble bringing it back to her desk but once the item was set down, brow wiped, she sighed and gathered all the pieces of the dress to begin attaching.

He was prepared to offer his help but she seemed to handle it. He blinked and then posed the question that had been lingering in the back of his head. "I mean it, though."

"Still, I wouldn't go that far…" She brushed the words off. He was flattering her, surely, just being nice?

"You should. Your work deserves the praise," Chat Noir continued easily. While he wasn't harsh, he liked to think he was good at being impartial. There was no point in complimenting something that did not deserve it. He didn't need to tear people down, but he'd rather give helpful advice over blind compliments.

Besides, it seemed like something Marinette would find beneficial if he had critiques. Unfortunately, while he did know clothes, the level of expertise Marinette would need from a teacher was beyond his own.

"Thank again." The bluenette proceeded to plug in the sewing machine, adjusting the pedal so that it was placed comfortably under her foot whenever she made a line of stitches. "I _do_ want to see her in this dress. If it's not too fancy, she might like it better." Not to say that her best friend would particularly picky when receiving a gift, but she had a more easygoing style and so Marinette would do her best to suit her tastes.

Chat Noir hummed. Alya, right?

It would be a nice early birthday present. He remembered Nino freaking out about what present to get her at school a few days ago and assured him whatever he got would be great. Nino was a thoughtful friend, after all.

"It's a gift, then? Ah, is it miss re _purr_ ter? She does seem to like things being a bit more relaxed," he remarked as she nodded eagerly before chuckling in amusement. "Especially as she might end up chasing us one day in it. That girl does not know the meaning of fear."

"Probably—she's really brave. Reckless and rash, but brave." Marinette was excited for it, wanting to see the look on her best friend's face as she surprised her with the present, the card, the movie. Aware that Nino would also pitch in something, she was determined to make the next day one of the best of the year.

"Very true." His eyes were drawn back to his pictures when she ducked her head to continue. He crawled off the daybed, moving over to study them. Totally unaware to the other's interest in the photos of Adrien scattered throughout the room, [her desktop background, several posters, school photos and those torn from magazines hung on the walls – not to mention the picture frame that sat neatly off to the side, displaying her crush all the same], she smiled at his response. She hadn't thought to hide anything, the suggestion totally slipping her mind in her panic over finishing Alya's dress.

And she had so many. He tilted his head, trying to figure out why. He could understand the magazines, she loved fashion, but some… didn't make sense. He settled on the floor and stared at the photos, looking the perfect picture of a curious kitten with ears straight and tail swaying.

When stillness took over, Marinette found that she yearned to hear his voice. She glanced at Chat Noir, prepared to speak, but she noticed that the kitty cat appeared interested in the photos and posters beside her computer. _"A-Ah—!"_

Her cheeks burned. She should have put them away. Biting her lip, Marinette sought some kind of excuse for having so many pictures of Adrien. "You already know who Gabriel Agreste is, right? That's his son. He's in my class," she explained, even though most Parisians were indeed familiar with the young model.

Chat Noir glanced over his shoulder when Marinette noticed his staring, looking thoughtfully back at the wall after a few moments. "I'm familiar with Adrien. I've picked him up a few times while getting civilians away from Akuma attacks. And, _well_ , the billboards are hard to miss."

It didn't hurt to establish he wasn't a complete stranger. Especially, after he claimed to save 'Adrien' during the Gamer incident.

The posters and clippings from magazines could be passed off as admiration, but ... photos from class trips, group outings, and yearbooks weren't so easily accounted for. Either way, she wasn't surprised to hear that Chat Noir already knew Adrien. She remembered asking him to rescue the blonde from the park once as Ladybug to which the other had responded that Adrien was already safe and taken care of.

Hesitation seemed to take over her movements and she was soon releasing a sigh and relaxing in her seat.

"I see. Uh, he's… he's a very good friend," Marinette added. [The love of her life, actually.] However, while it wasn't a lie, it wasn't the whole truth either since it would take time before Marinette could speak comfortably in Adrien's presence.

His tail froze, ears perking up.

A good friend? She considered them good friends?

He forced himself to relax even though his mind was racing. She thought they were good friends, but it seemed so difficult to have a conversation with her like almost anything could send her off into a nervous wreck. They were managing more these days, sure. However, it always felt like he was missing something about this girl.

Why did she get like that with Adrien, but not Chat Noir? She thought they were good friends and he wanted that to be true, but why was she lying? Or was that what she considered friendship?

"He is very lucky then," Chat Noir commented. "To have such a good friend."

 _"Well…"_

Eyes cast down, Marinette felt most of her embarrassment subside. Replaced with a calm, almost disheartened smile as she stepped on the pedal and attached the bust of the dress to the bottom portion. "I'm overstating myself. I want to be good friends _…_ _um_ , something like that."

She didn't think the cat would care much about what she was saying now, and she supposed that _this_ thought pushed her to continue talking. It could be kept between them. She trusted Chat Noir, after all.

"He probably thinks I'm weird, and I wouldn't blame him. It's _…_ it's, _ah_ , difficult. Liking someone so much you can barely think straight around them?" A soft chuckle, a shake of the head, and Marinette removed the piece of dress from beneath the sewing machine needle, observing it before flipping it over to attach the opposite side.

"Maybe you know what I mean."

Something like that. Liking someone that you barely think straight. He would know.

It took a few seconds for the pieces to fall together. Magazines, photoshoots—that was fashion. School pictures, outings, the normal things… that was different. Not just admiration.

Marinette had feelings for Adrien.


	8. les aveux

_A/N: so you like them, and i like them, but we also like each other, but we don't like each other - or maybe we do - and we don't know it - and  
not relatable? no?_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

viii.  
les aveux **  
**

 _Moi aussi._

* * *

He was glad his back was to her, because he couldn't help the grimace.

Chat Noir shouldn't be hearing this. These were her feelings, the ones she apparently went lengths to hide from Adrien—and here he was, _cheating_ with a mask.

But, it would explain it, wouldn't it? Why she could never talk, why she spluttered, how many times she'd blurted out a compliment and tried to change it.

And he… didn't know how to feel about it.

He was used to people having crushes on Adrien. He was supposed to be likable. He had been confessed to plenty of times, and of course, he rejected every single one of them. As gently as possible.

Blue eyes tentatively rose from the fabric, regarding the other teen with curiosity. Marinette couldn't see Chat Noir's face from the angle and she wondered what kind of expression he was making to being told something as seemingly trivial as a schoolgirl crush.

Instead, her words seemed to resonate and he was turning again. And this smile was two parts, like her own, subdued. She listened to him speak.

"I think I understand the feeling, though I suppose it'd be more accurate to say I have the opposite problem," he said, still staring at the wall. _Be perfect. Be perfect, be what your father wants, and maybe he'll actually show you he cares._ "It feels like I can't think straight without the mask. Everything I say and do is tailored to give off a certain impression. I've had enough practice that it comes naturally, but there are days where I've just one long internal scream because I think I've messed something up."

Once more, the topic of freedom was brought up and Marinette was slowly, slowly realizing that whatever kind of civilian life the superhero lead—he _didn't_ prefer it the way she did. He was pressured, carrying the burden of appearances. Something she couldn't know as well.

Marinette was Marinette. The only person she ever watched herself around was Adrien, and even then, the look on her wasn't much better.

"With _her_ … it's peaceful." He sighed, bowing his head and smiling softly.

She blinked. Her?

"With her, all the anxiety goes away. It's alright to say something weird. It's alright to make the stupid joke. You can be a fool and have fun. _Purr_ haps she won't love you the same, but she will still be your friend. She will still care. No matter how many flaws you have, she won't reject you. She needs you, but she _wants_ you to be there, too."

He then laughed, lifting his hand to cover his face. "The only problem is when I want her to take me seriously. I think I could tell her outright I love her and she'll think I'm just being a flirt! Just another silly kitty joke."

Her head throbbed.

This honesty…

Had she really been seeing Chat Noir so wrong? Her view of him skewed to the point where she had doubted the sincerity of his affections—and here he was, telling _Marinette_ everything.

Chat Noir loved Ladybug and it was now becoming so painfully clear that the girl couldn't help but swallow back the lump in her throat, feeling guilty and shitty and upset and dumb. She was absolutely awful.

And yet, she couldn't encourage him to pursue her. Call her selfish. Or maybe, it was for the better. All this time, she'd never meant to lead her partner on as Ladybug. She cared about him, worried over him, enjoyed working with him. But she had been far too occupied battling her own feelings to give real, serious thought to his.

Because around Marinette, Chat Noir opened up. Around Marinette, Chat Noir wasn't blinded with infatuation; he voiced his thoughts, his concerns without worrying what she'd think of him.

And she was finally understanding.

A long silence filled the space between them.

"We… have more in common than I expected us to." Another partial truth, but victims of unrequited love shared some of the worst feelings. And even though he laughed, she couldn't help but slouch her shoulders, chest tight. "I hope I haven't upset you after bringing it up, _mon minou."_

"No, you haven't," he assured her, looking over his shoulder, and offering a bright grin, one that caused her eyes to widen and lips to part in surprise. "It's actually rather pleasant, to have a con _mew_ sation about this. The only other person I can talk to has no patience for romance and as a civilian… well, that's just a crush of idolization without knowing the real girl."

To say she was relieved was an understatement. Just seeing his smile had the bluenette's heart melting and she breathed in a more positive feeling, idly playing with the frayed ends of the fabric. "Hmm."

His pun almost had her rolling her eyes again. Instead, she gave a small laugh, light and friendly—nodding in agreement to this kind of talk. She spoke frequently with Alya about her crush, and at this point, she was pretty sure Nino knew, too.

[Chat grinned when she laughed at the pun, tails and ears flicking up, looking like a cat who caught the canary. He knew _someone_ had to like them eventually!]

He glanced up at the pictures again. It was a shame. Marinette was so patient with him, so caring. A brave, passionate, beautiful girl. He saw a lot of similarities to his Lady, but where Ladybug had this wall of professionalism, Marinette was willing to let more personal things out. And she was seeing so much of Chat Noir without rejecting him either.

Maybe if he had noticed Marinette sooner… things would have been different?

"If I may make a suggestion, if it's not crossing a line, try to… not be so afraid of Adrien Agreste." There was a pause. "One of the Akuma we faced, Ladybug and I, was determined to throw him a birthday party of all things. For someone to be filled with that much negativity just because they wanted to do something that simple for a friend, it sounds like he thought Adrien really needed something like that. That simple fun. He'd probably love a friend like you."

He couldn't encourage her to pine after Adrien, but he wanted _desperately_ to become a better friend to her. And maybe if she saw more of who Adrien really was, she wouldn't be so in love with him.

After all, she wasn't in love with _him_ and if Adrien was _him,_ it was only natural—right?

The advice that left the cat's lips caused Marinette to feel just a tiny bit more confident about approaching him from now on.

"You're right. I can… try to be –" _Myself? Or normal? Which was the right word? Were they too different?_ "Um, pay more attention. He's usually smiling so I just assumed…" _That he was happy, that there was nothing wrong or lonely or difficult about his life._ "Ah, no, but I get it. _Merci beaucoup,_ Chat Noir."

"To your credit, Princess, that assumption is rather the point. Happy is a safe emotion. No one pries why a rich, young, popular model is happy," he pointed out with a shrug and a wave of his hand. If Adrien was unhappy or depressed, reporters would ask what happened, if something bad had happened. Or worse, they would start painting pictures.

A boy who had everything—what right does he have to be unhappy? How selfish could he be?

Either it led to questions he dared not answer, or it started to ruin his reputation. "And to be _fur_ , I'm also only making a guess. Perhaps the Bubbler just really likes parties, but I like to think I'm an excellent judge of chara _cat_ er."

Marinette blinked as Chat Noir shed some light onto the situation, his play on words doing nothing to deter her from the meaning behind them.

Could that be the case? She hadn't thought a life like that could be so suffocating. In truth, Marinette had wondered how nice it must be to have everything you want handed over to you because of who you are.

But, none of it mattered when what you _truly_ wanted was beyond the realm of the palpable, the tactile. She dwelled on this and she dwelled on Adrien. He was nice, polite, with good character… however, they were the distant type of friends. And it was her own fault for being so stricken with love that she'd never bothered to get to know him.

She supposed she just needed to hear this from someone other than—

No, it was because Chat Noir was dear to her, and to be shown his more honest side was a gift in itself. So, as he'd done—perhaps she could also spare a few words? Nothing to change his feelings for Ladybug, to make them stronger nor to discourage him.

With a smile, she attached the gown of the dress to the bust entirely, leaving a little room for adjustments. The shoulders came next and Marinette carefully sewed them on, folding the fabric in precise positions along the markings she'd made so that the sleeves were as symmetrical as she could manage.

"I know that… fighting crime doesn't really give you a lot of time to talk when you're together, but, ah. I've met Ladybug before. I think if you voiced your opinions more often, she'd like that. Don't worry too much about impressing her."

It was her own choice for being so 'business-before-fun' and strict with herself, but she didn't consider herself uncompassionate. "She'll warm up to you with time, I'm sure."

He finally looked away from the pictures, eyes wandering to Marinette. He moved closer, observing the hands that worked to attach the dress, and she tensed a little under his gaze. The stitching process seemed to be easier with a machine doing most of the work. Bandaged fingers shifted accordingly, foot pressing on the pedal in a steady manner. She was unhurried but not slow, meticulous but not harsh.

"That is my hope!" Chat Noir smiled. "Though, it's really hard to hold myself back from doing crazy things. _Aaah_ , especially when she's so amazing. Not easy to impress a girl like that," he spoke with a dramatic sigh.

"I… see what you mean. I think we all do it, from time to time. Especially when someone's so hard to impress. Like you said. It makes you want to keep trying until it happens."

"Yeah. But, she'll play along. She even makes puns sometimes! It's _paw_ esome." [Nothing made him squeal in joy internally more than when his Lady was making a pun.]

Laughter spilled from her lips. "You're such a dork."

He blushed. "Probably. It's just so hard to resist and the thought of seeing awe on her face! How could I not be persistent?" A blissful smile curved his lips, appearing content with the small goal. "And if nothing else, it makes her incredibly sassy." And that was always fun.

"Sassy, huh?…" In that case, she shouldn't be so hard on him. From what she could see, he liked Ladybug, genuinely, sincerely. What harm was there in playing along with his puns, his attempts at stealing her attention away on every few occasions?

"Oh, definitely. It makes the rebuffing worth it just to hear the clever wordplay." It was his greatest weakness, her quick wit, and cheeky grins. Better a playful rejection with no intent to harm than a cold rejection he had expected the first time. "Little by little, she's relaxing around me. Maybe she'll fall for me one of these days, but at least… I hope she'll trust me with more than just her life."

Hearing him go on and _on_ about Ladybug _should_ inflate her ego, make her flattered. And some while some aspect of Chat Noir's words caused her heart to throb uncertainly, she couldn't help but question herself again.

Fondness, she could understand. But—really, was he in _love_ with Ladybug?

Or the idea of her?

Plain, ordinary Marinette couldn't possibly spark an interest in the cat, so it would be silly to assume that his feelings were meant to last forever. Standing over Paris beside your cool partner-in-justice produced far more euphoric emotions than sitting in their bedroom and watching them sew clothes, surely?

[Chat Noir would disagree.] He crouched nearby, watching her work. It was oddly soothing. Watching her make something, knowing it was going to be beautiful. Hopefully, he'd get to see the full outfit. Alya would surely want to show it off at some point, and knowing how dedicated Marinette was, the color and shape would suit her wonderfully. A beautiful picture as a whole—all created by these delicate, bandaged hands. It was amazing.

Suddenly struck with a thought, Marinette's eyes widened and she shifted her gaze back down to her friend. "I forgot to ask sooner! I'm not keeping you here, am I?"

If he had some place else to go… Blue eyes flickered to green, brow creased in mild concern. It was probably selfish, but she didn't want him to leave yet. "Just a little curious."

"Hm?" He looked up and shook his head, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, no, no. I don't have anywhere to be until I need to find Ladybug for patrol, but she's usually not out for at least a while longer."

He paused then, feeling guilty. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

Marinette kept this in mind as she worked on the opposite shoulder and within just a little while, she had finished assembling the entire dress. She knew she was to go out patrolling after Chat Noir left, so he could be assured the superheroine had missed him in his absence. She breathed out a deep sigh just as he'd finished speaking, glancing over all the stitches before twirling the garment around in her hands.

"I see. And no, you're not disturbing me at all! Don't make that face," Marinette chided, noting the look that had pass over his features. Before he could try to play off the expression, he didn't _mean_ to look guilty, there were fingers under his chin. She had reached out to gently scratch him there and— _oh._

Oh, that was nice. That was really, really, _really_ nice. The remorse vanished in a matter of seconds, a contented look coming across his face, and he started to purr almost instantly.

She blinked and seemed to blush slightly before pulling her hand away with a tiny apology and standing to hold up the dress to her dresser window. He leaned after her, almost head-butting her hand. Then he froze, eyes snapping open as he realized what he was doing. He turned red and sat back stiffly.

He resembled a cat so much that Marinette had almost begun treating him like one; this absentminded petting, ruffling, scratching, the desire to drape a protective arm around him and snuggle him close like a pillow. Was it strange?

Honestly, if it was _strange_ , then he was _stranger._ The puns were him, but the cat behavior was not something he could help. It felt just as natural to be on two feet as it was four. He kept curling his hands like paws to 'retract' his claws. And the scratching and purring. _Guh_. [He had more than once wanted to cuddle against Ladybug like a needy kitten, and just barely fought off the urge.]

Still. Nope. He wasn't going to get her attention with a head-butt, definitely not. He stood up straight, stepping back to give her space, and taking a chance to look over the dress.

She smiled, "It's almost done. I just have to add the ribbon."

"It'll go well," Chat Noir nodded, swaying in his spot as looked it over best he could at a distance.

"Do you think so?" She grinned and pulled on the gown, holding it to her frame before lowering it to the desk again. If Alya liked this, it would all be worth it. Marinette retrieved the spools Chat Noir had brought earlier, [among many other supplies], and with measuring tape and a pair of scissors, she proceeded to snip away varying lengths of shiny blue ribbon.

"I know so. She'll look stunning—how couldn't she love it?"

Sitting down in front of the sewing machine once more, Marinette attached ribbon to the bust of the dress, the hem, and delicately around the collar. "I've been practicing to finally make something for her. Most of the time, I work on designs but don't do a lot with them, or they're scrapped." She spoke as she worked, her concentration holding well despite the casual conversation.

 _"C'est vrai…_ _?_ That's a shame. From what I've seen, you have good designs. Those who get something are very lucky," he complimented, settling down beside her, though making sure to not be in the way. He meant what he said, too. She was obviously putting so much work in them and it showed. Beauty and meaning, what gift could be better?

Growing gently accustomed to the kindness, she smiled wider. He made her heart soar with the remarks, as simple as they were. "Really, really. That's sweet of you to say." Critique was important to Marinette, but like every aspiring artist, musician, designer, a bit of sincere praise never did any damage either.

"I wouldn't say it if I did not believe it. I'm sure a professional designer could give helpful advice, but from the extent of my knowledge, I believe I'd be very hard-pressed to find a flaw." He winked, holding up a hand in the air, the other crossing over his heart.

She was lightly flushed with embarrassment but it was the good kind, finishing securing the ribbon on the dress. It tapered off at the back, which she would manually sew into a small bow.

"I would have knitted her a sweater given this weather but… I've already done that," she murmured sheepishly. "Don't want to fill her closet with the same old, same old. Knitting is easier, though."

"Never tried my _paw_ at knitting. Is it really easier?"

"Never? You've got to be _kitten_ me!" Marinette exclaimed, unable to help herself; it was the perfect opportunity. Call her crazy, but Chat Noir's puns were becoming a tiny bit contagious. He beamed, laughing gleefully. It was an oldie, but a goodie and the fact someone was humoring him was wonderful. "I could teach you sometime, it's not hard at all."

"I think I'll have to take you up on that o _fur_ rer one day."

But then Marinette continued and it took every ounce of lingering happiness and model expertise to not let the shock and subsequent hurt show on his face. "For Adrien's birthday, I'd knitted him a scarf. Well—kind of. I'm not sure how but things ended mixed up, so he thinks it's from his father."

The girl gave a chuckle, deciding it wasn't so important if she told Chat Noir this, seeing as he already knew about her crush. "He'd seemed pretty… happy, though. _Tu sais_ — _?_ To get a gift from him. I didn't say anything. It was fine with me so long as it had made him feel good."

"Oh?" He hummed, but his mind skidded out of control.

[If only she'd realized her mistake. Marinette would have shut up, wouldn't have breathed a word regarding the gift to him.] She didn't seem to notice the sadness nor the shock that lay beneath this warm smile Chat Noir was giving her and nodded her head.

The scarf had been so out of character.

It was well made, and no signs of a tag. With the quality of the material, it had to be custom made. Which would explain why there was no tag. But… there was a chance, however small, and he liked to entertain the possibility maybe his father made it.

Somehow, there seemed a slim chance there was something to it. His father gave him more than a passing moment of thought.

He was wrong to think like that. Either his father took credit, or Nathalie was supposed to get him a gift for his father and she stole it. And he didn't know which was worse. His father a thief, or _he_ didn't even choose his presents in the first place.

But Marinette had let him believe. "His father is a busy man. For how much work you seem to put into this dress, he must have been happy his father took the time to make sure it was a quality gift. You're very kind to choose to let him be happy over impressing him."

"With what you mentioned about his birthday party… I can only guess he was pretty bummed out in the end, even if he didn't show it. That's why I don't regret keeping it to myself." Adrien had been ecstatic about the gift. This was enough for her.

"I imagine so. Especially since it wasn't until right before I found him to realize that the Bubbler had threatened them all to attend the party. He felt pretty bad that he missed the obvious."

It had been so clear in hindsight. Why everyone was upset and looking depressed. He wondered if Chloé had even realized her father was gone or was just too excited to have his attention while everyone else was distracted. Frankly, the scarf had been the one real high point of his birthday.

That, and the realization that Nino cared about him that deeply.

He knew Nino was a good friend, but to be so angry for his sake that he was possessed by an Akuma was strangely touching.

As was this. Yes, it hurt—knowing that his father either lied or didn't care enough to even do that much for his birthday. And here was Marinette, who _liked_ him, who was content to let him be happy even if it meant her chances of getting his attention were lessened. Better that he was happy than she was.

It was… nice. Having someone think of his happiness first.

She stood, unplugging the sewing machine and leaving it at her desk while she retrieved her needle and thread.

"I doubt it'll come up at any point, but you said you're familiar with him? I would appreciate keeping all of this between us."

"Only in the few moments after rescues," Chat Noir mumbled, though he crossed his heart again. "I won't breathe a word to him."

So then, she'd done well to protect Adrien's feelings. Never mind how mistaken she was in truth, Marinette sincerely believed that as long as he was happy—and not just pretending to be—she could be at ease. Hearing Chat Noir promise not to say anything was a reassurance and she was glad to know she could so readily trust the other when it came to matters of the heart.

Sitting comfortably against her chair, Marinette proceeded to secure the ribbon in the back as a bow and once every loose thread was removed and frayed ends clipped, she let out a sigh of relief for finally finishing. He packed away his negative feelings for the moment. Reacting would only be a neon sign to Marinette and… he would need time to deal with it, anyway.

Instead, he focused on her work. And focused. He leaned in, watching her sew, studying her technique. He drifted closer and closer, not even realizing he was right at her side until she started folding the dress.

Marinette jumped when she finally noticed how close he was, blinking at the superhero crouched beside her. Reflexively, she'd moved inward, drawing her legs to her chest. _"Chat Noir,"_ the female huffed, pressing a hand to her chest to calm her racing pulse.

He looked up and smiled sheepishly. "My apologies, I got pulled in." Redness tinged his face. He was always curious, but with cat mixed in, it was easy to be too close without realizing it.

"It's okay." She changed positions, kneeling on the seat while propping her chin against the backrest and peering down at him. A fond half-smile was offered to him, and again driven by how endearing the kitty cat could be, she reached over to rub one of the ears on his head.

He froze a moment, then relaxed completely, eyes closing—drawn towards her touch with a soft purr. This lasted a little longer than the scratching from before and once she'd withdrawn her arm, Marinette was adding, "I need to study for Physics."

Pouting slightly when she pulled away, Chat Noir attempted to wipe the expression away with a shake of his head. No, _no_ , he shouldn't sulk just because someone wasn't petting him. He wondered if Ladybug had this problem. What would Ladybug tendencies even be? Eating plants? Sleeping in winter? [Actually, he should check to see if this was a possibility.]

"Physics?" he repeated, opening his eyes and tilting his head.

"Mhm." Lips pursed, she crossed her arms on the top of the backrest, pressing her cheek against them. "But, I _really_ don't want to." She could almost hear Tikki scolding her for this, as though the tiny kwami's voice had begun to function as a second conscience. Probably the more reasonable one, too. [Was it a surprise? As responsible and task-oriented as Marinette usually behaved, sometimes she wished she had not a single thing to worry about.]

"Ah, I could help, if you want! Physics is my favorite subject."

 _Funny_ , Marinette idly thought, because Adrien's favorite subject was Physics, too.


	9. tout ce que je veux

_A/N: thank you all so much for the support! i'm surprised by all the positivity!_  
 _heads up for some ladynoir interaction next chapter!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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ix.  
tout ce que je veux

 _Ton rire est ma dépendance._

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Marinette hummed, allowing the chair to spin before a sigh parted her lips and she returned to sitting properly on the seat. She wasn't fond of Physics. Mathematics in general miffed her, and Chemistry was only slightly better. Biology, on the other hand, was interesting though the Arts were surely always in her favor.

And the offer of help was nice… No, she couldn't bug the kitty cat to tutor her.

"Really? Well …" So much for _that_ plan.

He laughed at her clear indecisiveness on the matter. He certainly didn't mind it. He remembered years where he helped Chloé with her homework. [Maybe help was too vague of a word.]

It was originally like that, but there was a while he ended up essentially doing it for her. At least, he made her write down her own answers and he'd been trying to correct the behavior, but Sabrina didn't help with those attempts in the least. In the end, he just gave up.

However, Marinette wasn't Chloé and he knew could actually offer help without having to do it for her. She was far from the type of person to let others do her work for her, it seemed. It was one of the things he liked about her. Marinette wanted to earn what she got, from contests to votes to grades.

She hopped up to her feet and moved toward the bed, reaching for the bookbag that leaned on her nightstand. She then removed the textbook and notes in question, sprawling them over her comforter and crossing her legs as she shifted to sit next to the materials on the bed. Bluebell eyes flickered to Chat Noir, just short of begging him to settle down beside her.

"Could you, maybe, explain Ampère's law? I've read these words a thousand times and it's—" She passed a hand over her head, indicating her lack of comprehension. Perhaps, this was an excuse to keep him around longer; she wasn't so sure anymore. He was hardly bad company and with the little things she was able to learn about him each time he visited, the more interested in him she became.

He smiled kindly, moving to join her on the bed. "Of course, Princess. The textbook is pretty confusing in how it words things."

Wait.

"A least most of them are." After all, he shouldn't imply that he had the same textbook. "Math-loving folks are not the best writers for people like us," he mused with a chuckle, grabbing a pencil and a spare piece of paper, beginning to write so he could properly explain the parts of the equation and how the current worked.

And after years of Chloé? It was more than easy to be patient in his explanations.

She was surprised to see Chat Noir so willing to help. This, paired with the fact that he was liked Physics, was a bonus! She could only think of one more person who enjoyed the subject in her class, but to ask Adrien for assistance on her homework—… well, when she could barely hold a conversation, [except on the rare occasions her confidence existed around him]—would likely take some time.

Chat Noir had also begun pondering if he should offer as Adrien. He was still for the idea of making friends with Marinette on the other side of the mask and it would be an easy gateway. He just needed to 'notice' her struggling one day and he hoped she could accept it without getting too nervous.

Subconsciously shifting closer to peer at the cat's handwriting, Marinette watched as he scrawled down the circuital law in its integral form. _Ugh._ Calculus was the kind of thing she had a bit of trouble using. A frown settled on her lips, but as he kept at it, slowly describing each component in a way that didn't totally go over her head like this textbook had the tendency to, she found herself relaxing.

"Say we change this into a sum, instead," Marinette reached for the pencil in his hands, writing down another equation beneath the integral and using the book as a reference.

"…ΔL is the circumference. And I mean, obviously, the circumference of a circle is just 2πr, right?" That made this much easier to visualize. "I know this is the permeability constant… 1.26e-6… which is free space …"

"Yeah, that also works. See—you've already got it!"

He found her fun to teach. She asked many questions, but it was easier to figure out what to explain when she did. Continuing to murmur and wait for his approval, she began to make sense of the equation. Within just a few tries, Marinette had gone over the parts in a far more simplified manner.

She didn't want Chat Noir to do the problems for her and only allowed him to help her figure out where to plug in values before punching the numbers into her calculator and doing the math on her own. There was more satisfaction in getting the right answer this way, and she would never take credit when another happened to do all the work.

As she struggled through a couple examples from the book in her notebook, she had pressed herself even closer to the other—unfazed and comfortable basically leaning on the blonde's shoulder.

Chat Noir hadn't even noticed, at first. The warmth at his side was soothing, almost familiar in a way. Her sweet scent caught his attention, like cookies and sea breeze perfume. It was overall pleasant, and he couldn't bring himself to point out the behavior. She might pull away if he did.

 _"Mmh ._.. _Merci_ , Chat Noir," Marinette eventually hummed, taking a break and discarding her pencil. She sighed and gathered one of her pillows into her arms, pressing her it against her chest while flopping back against the mattress.

"I feel a little better about my test now. You've a lot of patience to put up with all my questions."

"You're welcome, Princess. I'm happy to be of service," he responded with a bow of his head, leaning back on his hands and watching her. "It means you're a good student. It's easier to teach if I know what needs to be learned."

Suddenly, a blush burned her cheeks and he blinked as she quickly hid behind the pillow, adding in a muffled voice, "I'm actually kind of surprised."

Amusement flickered over his features. She was incredibly cute.

"Oh? Didn't expect a silly tomcat to be patient?"

She could just _hear_ him grinning and it caused Marinette to grow a little more flustered. A few, quiet grumbles left her lips before she lowered the pillow from her face, shooting the other a look to show her lack of amusement.

Yet, even annoyed, she couldn't help but feel drawn towards the other and she decided that she much preferred this sincere lightheartedness to the pained smiles on his person just a week ago. "That makes me sound like a bad person," she complained, lips pressed together in some mildly indignant way. "You've been so helpful and it's just… nice. Especially since I hadn't heard from you in a while."

"Oh, never bad, Princess. _Purr_ esumptuous, _mew_ be." [He looked quite proud of the double pun, to her dismay.] He could only agree, though. This was nice. It had taken weeks for Adrien to relax like this around Nino, and Chat Noir wasn't allowed to reach this level with Ladybug. It was lovely to have someone else he could relax around.

Marinette sat up but her eyes drifted past Chat Noir as she admitted, "I missed you," which was probably almost strange given their lack of interaction as a civilian girl.

His eyes widened. She had missed him?

But, this part of her was Ladybug speaking and to endure the time alone had taken a greater toll on the superheroine than she'd expected it to. Physically and mentally—like the lack of his presence had sucked the motivation out of her, so to counteract, she'd forced herself to become even more determined to win when facing villains by herself. "If that makes any sense."

And to him, it _was_ strange because they had only spoken a handful of times like this, but it was enough for her to care enough to… miss him?

He wasn't sure he ever remembered being missed. There weren't many people to be candidates to miss him. The surprise remained on his face this time, for a good several moments.

"I…"

For a moment, Marinette was afraid that she'd _creeped_ him out with the admission. Or worse, that he'd laugh and brush her off the exact same way she had the habit of doing. And she wouldn't blame him because she deserved it. Taking this long to see what a great friend she had in Chat Noir, offering nothing in return.

She was fortunate to have him around, even if it hadn't been so obvious from the beginning.

Meanwhile, his stomach was twisting uncomfortably. What was _he_ supposed to say? He couldn't miss her, _she sat behind him in class every day!_ [Thank you? Was this a thank you type of thing?] It didn't feel enough because just having someone who wanted him around meant the world, so he did the only thing he could think of—and leaned forward—wrapping his arms around her, forehead against her shoulder.

Loose, easy to pull away, but it was a hug. "It's… _unexpected."_

Marinette tensed because she hadn't been prepared, and the hint of a flush spread across her cheeks. Proximity was a bigger deal when she actually paid attention. He wore the scent of the city, mixed with something warm and sweet, maybe vanilla and these few words were enough to indicate he'd felt the same way about her remark.

She quickly forced herself to relax. "I-It is, huh?"

[Did she just stammer?]

Clearing her throat, Marinette gently nuzzled her cheek against his hair, drawing her arms upwards to wrap loosely around him. He tightened his hold in response. Still respecting one another's boundaries, but it was more assured. Sighing, Chat Noir slumped against her. He was full of too much emotion from her kind words, with elation that someone he liked cared for him in turn—and he was more than eager to soak in that affection.

"You don't know me very well, _aah,_ of course, it's unexpected." These white lies spilled past her lips with ease. "I suppose you could say I'm a tiny bit attached to you."

"We've both saved one another. Those sort of things create a strong bond fairly quickly," he rationalized the situation since it might explain her end of things. Gratitude, concern, sympathy. Hard to not care for someone with all that. _He_ had the advantage of knowing her as Adrien.

"Yeah. They do." He was right, she supposed, even though it was much more than saving his life; that was all he was familiar with as Chat Noir so she was content to entertain the idea.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him… And besides, with how he was _clinging_ to her now—forehead pressed to her shoulder and arms encircling her frame—she didn't have the heart to push him away and create distance between them again.

"I would like to visit again. If that's… alright."

His remark caught her off-guard and Marinette paused, stomach fluttering before she closed her eyes and managed to form words. "Yes, it's alright. I told you before that you're welcome to visit anytime." Before his injury and willingness to open up, she couldn't guarantee that she would have agreed so readily but things were different now, and _this_ was proof enough.

"That's what friends do, silly kitty."

"Sadly, I can't return the favor, but I'll try to visit enough to make up for it," he murmured into her shoulder, the smile evident in his tone.

A sigh escaped her and she drew him even closer, lifting one of her hands to ruffle the hair at his nape, nuzzling, humming, "I won't argue with that."

She wasn't surprised to hear this. With the matter of identity, she didn't expect him to invite her wherever he lived and she hummed as Chat Noir's head spun from this display of affection. It was wonderful being this close to someone, to feel those gentle hands in his hair, those arms around him, and he was going to purr at this rate.

No, correction, he was _definitely_ purring, and he couldn't even be bothered to be embarrassed about it. He was too happy to care.

It would be some time before he could consider telling her about Adrien, and probably a talk with Ladybug if the issue ever came up, but for now, _this_ was enough. Friends with this lovely girl, one he could try to make happy and laugh, and another person he could be more of himself around.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by her voice.

"Are you purring?" The girl laughed. "That's so cute!"

 _"Cute?"_ Well, yes. [Chat Noir was cute, no matter how much she would try to convince herself otherwise.]

Her tone held a bit of good-natured teasing, however, with no real intention to upset him. Even if she hadn't said it unkindly, he felt the heat crawl to his cheeks. It wasn't as though he had much of reason to purr often; sometimes His Lady would scratch him, but they were brief moments. Barely enough time to lean into the touch, let alone start purring.

"Mhm." He was the kind of cute small animals and children had about them… or so she thought. But, surely, the longer she dwelled on it, the more her mind would wander and Marinette pulled away slightly to cup his cheeks in her hands with a small smirk settled on her lips. He let his hold loosen when she did so, one hand resting on her side, the other moving back to rub at his neck in sheepish embarrassment.

She figured his suit and his Miraculous made behave that way. As Ladybug, she couldn't say she'd ever experienced any peculiar urges. "Does that happen on its own?"

"Ah… yes, basically," he mumbled. "My, um, _guide…_ says it's easier and makes the cat abilities stronger if there's more cat mixed in. Personally, I would not put it past them that the more is mixed in for their amusement. They do like to cause mischief. While I could see why craving more meat may be an advantage, I've yet to figure out how wanting belly rubs helps me to be more agile or see in the dark better."

Though another part of him suspected it might just be pure bad luck. After all, for how much he wielded his powers, it felt like there should be more consequences. Maybe he should ask Ladybug about it one day.

Marinette noted that the red that tinged his features seemed to grow and she found this endearing as well. She blinked, keeping her palms pressed to his cheeks before lowering them with a laugh. It made sense _…_ kind of. Tikki hadn't seemed to influence her actions—maybe she was a little more conscientious, but often times, the kwami would scold her for trying something too dangerous or acting on a whim.

What exactly did ladybugs do, anyway? She knew that they were said to bring good luck. They also ate plants and sprayed strange-smelling fluid from their knees, but neither had ever appealed to the superheroine.

"That's adorable," she commented this as though she was speaking about the weather. "I didn't realize it was unintentional."

"While some things are intentional, it would be difficult to properly maintain it in the heat of the moment. And I would never want to throw in running on all fours if it wasn't for the cat parts," he added with a helpless shrug.

He had actually tried as Adrien once, but it hadn't come anywhere near as naturally then. Luckily, he had made sure no one was around to see him skid down a hallway in the mansion and slam his face into the wall.

"What else changes when you're transformed? I know your night vision is better, for example." She wouldn't expect him to go into immense detail, but she was curious. There were quite a few powers her Miraculous allowed her and she wondered how similar they were to his.

"The night vision basically lets me see in the dark. I do require some ambient lighting, but as long as things aren't pitch black, I can see. I can smell and hear better. I couldn't track someone like a bloodhound, but I notice what most people wouldn't, but I can hear fairly far away if I'm paying attention."

He cringed lightly, "Ugh, loud noises were unbearable until I got used to it. I also have a fairly good spatial awareness. It feels as natural to run on all fours as two legs like this, and I can actually run faster like that."

Marinette could have guessed some of these things, but the rest came as a surprise. She was fascinated by how Chat Noir's powers compared to her own, how his abilities were modified with the influence of a cat, which, in all honesty, was pretty damn clever.

"I think I might actually be more flexible than Ladybug, but it feels a tad awkward to ask. Flirty cat, plus 'how flexible are you' is probably going to get me hit."

 _Oh._ This remark had the bluenette giggling and pressing the back of her hand to her lips to hide her amusement while Chat Noir ducked his head in mild embarrassment. She knew her flexibility was greatly enhanced under transformation, but she didn't doubt the blonde's words for even a moment.

"Mm, you have a point there." Hitting him sounded just about right.

"I may be a shameless flirt with My Lady, but I do have some tact. And self-preservation. We hit _hard."_ He was grinning, though. He knew Ladybug wouldn't hit hard enough to actually hurt him, but it was a nice, comical image, and he was finding he really like Marinette's laugh. Anything that might get her to do it again was worth trying.

"Tell me more," she crooned, stifling the last of her laughs between her fingers.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "As for other cat things… new cravings for meat, love getting scratches and pets from what little has happened along those lines, the purring, some meowing that isn't just puns, and I keep doing _this,_ " Chat Noir continued, and curled up his hands like paws. "I did it constantly while dealing with that pigeon man. Never even noticed it before then."

Really, this just made her smile. He resembled a cat so much. No wonder she felt like constantly pulling the other close and nuzzling him. Ladybug was too professional to attempt a lot of physical contact, but she preferred it that way.

Out of costume, she could relax and Marinette decided she liked the calm, easygoing air between her and Chat Noir as they conversed.

"I see _…_ I guess it became more obvious after that? I honestly wouldn't have expected some of your powers to function the way they do." Again, not entirely a lie, but she needed to pretend she knew next to nothing about him.

"Oh, very. I've learned to roll with it. I think the cutesy factor helps in provoking the Akuma, and provocation is what I do best," he smirked, sitting up straight, nose up, and preening like this was a good fact. "…Actually, that could possibly explain the cat tendencies. Chat Noir is better for distraction and I can't imagine they were all as good at jokes as myself."

Which made quite a bit of sense. She'd always thought he was pretty good at riling people up, and he made a wonderful distraction when things got bad. He couldn't count how many times this had helped in a sticky situation as Ladybug.

"And your tail?" She eyed the flicking appendage, "Your claws?"

He flicked his tail forward. Although it looked like a normal belt, he appeared to have a bit of control over it. "One part balance, another part spatial awareness. I can actually feel it. It's… not like a limb. It has to get pulled really badly to even hurt a little, but it's enough to help the awareness."

The interest in her gaze made it hard to keep talking, but he pushed the self-consciousness away. "It also helps to vent emotions, though that may just be psychological on my part and not a standard feature. I'm working to see if I could grab things—It just… it doesn't like making a tight grip."

He moved the tail to wrap around her waist, loose and more of a drape than anything. "That's the best I have so far."

She had leaned in close as he explained the phenomenon of his tail, tensing at the example. She then slumped her shoulders and released some huff of a laugh. "I think that's pretty impressive."

"Really?" His face lit up with the praise. "The tail has always been temperamental. You would think it's attached to a real cat," the hero joked.

"Well, you're _basically_ a real cat," she teased back and he laughed.

It had taken a lot of practice to get it to behave. Though, now that he'd settled his tail around her, it was more than content to stay there. He pulled off his left glove, showing off the claws on his hands. Her gaze dropped, surveying them.

"I think these are a feature left over from previous generations. You've seen Alya's post about how Ladybug was in Ancient Egypt? You could hardly expect the outfits to be the same over the years. With how everything functions like it's attached, I think the fake appearance is more to make me seem a little less odd."

No doubt about that. Marinette nodded as he continued on to say, "Easier to accept a boy wearing cat ears than a boy with cat ears growing out of his head. I haven't tried, but I don't think I can actually remove the tail and ears."

"And their abilities?"

"The claws can cut tough material, put gouges in metal. But using them in a fight would be… bloody." He frowned. "It's a delicate dance when your powers are based on bad luck and destruction."

She blinked, prepared to say something, but his frown didn't last long—"However destructive they may be naturally, Ladybug makes it a far easier rhythm to follow."

"Oh, that's a relief." Without asking, she reached out to take his palm in hers, closing it into a fist so as to survey his claws in more detail. They were sharp, and she realized he wasn't exaggerating when he mentioned how messy things would get if he ever used them to inflict physical damage.

She released her gentle hold on his hand to glance up at him again. "It goes to show how important working together is. Relying on each other like that."

…It would be a lie to say he hadn't thought about it. But, while it would be a good scare tactic, he rejected the idea almost immediately. He could fight, but he didn't think he had it in himself to be constantly drawing blood. He much preferred the blunt force of his baton.

Bruises intimidated… blood _terrified_.

"Mm, it is." Chat Noir's expression became fond. "I was… really happy when I learned what her abilities were. That she could fix damages caused by the Akuma and me. I had originally intended to only use Cataclysm when absolutely necessary, but if she can fix it, then it's a tool I can more readily utilize."

Being able to destroy anything at a touch was powerful indeed, but he was just as likely to anger people as help them if everything he broke stayed that way. With Ladybug around, he could use his full potential without fearing what that potential could _do._

Marinette opened her mouth to fuel the conversation, pose more questions now that she completely immersed in the other, but her mother's voice from downstairs interrupted them.

 _"Marinette! Dinner is ready!"_

A sigh parted her lips, an apologetic glanced tossed to Chat Noir, who had immediately grown rigid, tail shooting out, ears perked… before relaxing when he realized the footsteps weren't making their way up. Marinette wanted to snort with laughter at the way the other had puffed up like an actual cat. "I have to go."

Standing, she shifted to pack her things into her book bag, tidying up the spot in which she had been sitting on the covers. "If you want, I can bring something up for you?" A lighthearted smirk, head tilting, "Cookie… cheese, maybe?"

Part of him was very tempted to say yes. But, it would be awkward hovering in the girl's room while she ate. "Ah, I actually have some with me," Chat Noir assured her with a sheepish grin. "In my other pants, but I think it may be time for me to head out. I should see if I can gain the attention of miss reporter before looking for My Lady."

He removed himself from the bed and stretched his arms above his head to uncurl. She simply nodded, watching as he bowed before heading up to the hatch.

"I will be sure to visit again. _Adieu,_ Princess."

 _"À plus,_ Chat Noir."

With a little wave, she bid the other goodbye, aching to snag him by the tail and draw him into a brief hug first.

Shaking these thoughts away, Marinette locked the hatch and descended the stairs to join her family for dinner.


	10. nos doutes

_A/N: (warning for excessive cat puns)_ _there is adrinette to come~_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

x.  
nos doutes

 _Je pourrais l'aimer._

* * *

With her homework finished and Student Council duties taken care of, she'd moved to the balcony above her room and spent a fair amount of time leaning on the railing.

The skies had darkened from the pink and orange evening. The sun was long since gone and replaced with wispy black clouds. A little creature nuzzled up to her in greeting, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "Marinette, do you like him?"

"— _Who?"_ She appeared surprised by the simple question and this caused Tikki to giggle, trilling, "Chat Noir! Surely, you realize I was with you the entire time? Just not in plain sight."

These were the moments that Marinette wished she could better handle her emotions. Despite the flush that covered her face, she was shaking her head. "No, no, Tikki, he's my friend. I care a lot about him."

"Oh, _ma chère Marinette."_ A sigh. "You are too cute!"

The teasing was enough for Marinette to reach over and gently pet her kwami's tiny head with two fingertips, pursing her lips in a mock-pout. "Hush."

"Mm, anyway, I know what you're thinking. I agree that you should meet him, but don't stay out too long. Your rest is important as well."

"I know, I know! I promise I'll be quick. If I dawdle, you'll be there to scold me afterwards."

Tikki clicked her tongue and rested her form on the girl's shoulder. "Which does nothing unless you actually _listen."_ Marinette hummed in response, allowing the remark to hang in the air as they gazed up at the dark Parisian skyline. With a last sigh, she smiled and murmured, "Tikki, transform me," and the kwami went to work.

Tossing her yo-yo and quietly hopping off the balcony in search of her partner, Ladybug disappeared into the night.

* * *

Chat Noir felt reluctant to leave his princess, but he had places to be.

Regardless of the fact, he felt elated as he hits the rooftops. Of course, he usually enjoyed his time as a superhero, but this time, he couldn't help the wide smile on his face.

 _Marinette_ enjoyed his company. _Marinette_ was interested in knowing more about him. _Marinette_ was open to seeing what _Adrien_ was hiding.

He knew it. He _knew_ she'd be a good friend, and the realization made him downright giddy.

The cat moved towards Alya's neighborhood and hovered about, trying to spot her house. He found perches, looking around, trying to not be suspicious until finally he noticed her rushing out of a building. So, that was her house.

She was already streaming something on her phone and he laughed to himself. Alya noticed and when she tried to call him down, he consented. It was brief—she asked him where he had been, what had happened, had the pressure become too much, was there a fight with Ladybug—

Chat Noir just shook his head, looking amused and assured her it was nothing so dramatic. A family matter came up that he had to deal with out of the country, simple as that! It was dealt with and he wouldn't be leaving Paris anytime soon.

Eventually, he told her that he had to keep up his patrol, that he had a lot of catching up to do. Alya noticed he seemed particularly happy.

He paused, considering his answer. "Well, everything has a silver lining, no?"

And before she could ask for clarification, he was moved to the rooftops again. He wanted to get a good look around the city he'd missed, and hopefully, find His Lady, too.

* * *

It had taken some time. Chat Noir had said something about visiting Alya's neighborhood to offer her reassurance and information for the Ladyblog, so the spotted heroine took to briefly patrolling the area. Truthfully, there didn't appear to be suspicious happenings, nor any villains in sight.

Now, think, where could _he_ be…?

Her eyes flickered to the glowing building in the middle of the city, standing out against the darkness. The Eiffel Tower? This had to be it! If there was anywhere to meet, it was the the tallest structure in Paris. She often spent her time at the Trocadéro as Marinette just to gaze up at the monument – the tower also offered an encompassing view of the city, which worked in her favor, all things considered.

Ladybug swung her yo-yo out to wrap around pipes, signs, vaulting over rooftops with ease. And true to her intuition, a certain black cat was lurking around, gaze settled down below as though searching for the exact same thing.

She tossed her cord over a few of the iron bars from the opposite direction, sliding down in silence.

As her feet touched the ledge, she managed to gently seize her partner by the wrist from behind. Too distracted in his search, he didn't notice her approach – and he jumped, going stock still, ready to whip around to face the other.

 _"Bonsoir, mon minou,"_ Ladybug breathed out the greeting, tipping her head to press her forehead against the back of his shoulder in some attempt to catch her breath. She had undoubtedly caught him by surprise. Chat Noir relaxed at the words, felt her forehead against his shoulder, and his insides grew fuzzy.

He was always so happy they could do this. The casual contact, the easy affection.

When she straightened up, there was no real way to contain the smile on her face.

She didn't want to appear too nonchalant, because, damn it, she _had_ been worried. But, having already been assured of the cat's wellbeing through Marinette, there was no need to fire questions and put him on the spot. He wouldn't tell her the truth, anyway.

Calmly, she released her grip around his forearm and shifted so that she could properly look at him, retracting the cord from her yo-yo. "I was looking all over for you."

Chat Noir glanced over as she moved, his grin widening and his eyes sparking with glee. He kneeled down to take her hand.

"My apologies for my absence, My Lady. I can assure you, it was torture to be without your beauty for so long," he purred, bowing his head to kiss the back of her hand.

Ladybug froze at the gesture. She pulled back immediately afterwards and reached out to ruffle his hair, a deep sigh parting her lips. He had grinned, leaning into her hand. He expected the contact, short and sweet—but driven by the urge from earlier, the superheroine then proceeded to lean in for a tight hug, wrapping her arms around Chat Noir and drawing him back to his feet, close to her.

He jumped, startled, but followed the pull. There was a moment of uncertainty as to what was going on, but he slowly returned the embrace. He wasn't a fool. He figured she had been worried, that this was a platonic hug, _still—_

Still, he'd enjoy it for every second it was worth.

"Save the flattery."

It was rare for Ladybug to show this kind of physical affection, yet she couldn't bring herself to care at that moment. They had already been over this, after all. Both Marinette and Ladybug had missed him… the former was just more ready to admit it than the latter.

"Whatever happened, I just want you to know that I'm glad you're alright." She retracted her arms, allowing them to rest at her sides as she nodded, seriousness donning her features, "That's all."

It was a vague response, but it still warmed the cat's heart.

"I'm… sorry for worrying you," he murmured, releasing her as she pulled away. "I had a personal matter to attend to, and in a rare bout of mother henning, my kwami made sure I gave it my focus."

Her expression softened at the apology that left him, deciding that she was being too harsh on the other. She knew full well what had happened and even if she wasn't able to coax it out of him, this was enough for now. "I understand. And it's fine, no need to share if they're your personal matters."

"Thank you, My Lady."

He was glad she didn't ask. He wasn't sure what he'd do if she pried. He definitely couldn't lie to her, but he was hesitant to tell her the truth. To make her question his own abilities, or to make her feel guilty for not being there.

It was just better if she didn't know at all. He was in one piece, and that was all that should matter in the end.

The hero paused before continuing, "I lied to the Ladyblog. I just told them what would get them to not expect me to elaborate."

He knew he didn't _have_ to say it, but while omissions were commonplace in their relationship, he didn't like the idea of directly telling her something false. He knew that his partner paid attention to the Ladyblog and he didn't want it to appear he trusted a reporter more than her.

"I expected you might." Ladybug smiled, hoping she didn't give away more than she meant to. Idly twisting the yo-yo on her hip, she playfully added, "You know, I _could_ get used to the peace and quiet."

"Oh, you wound me!" A dramatic sigh escaped him, hand moving over his heart and she laughed.

She reached out to gently swipe her finger over the cat's nose, playfully poking him. He blinked and grinned. "At the same time, being without you was…" She paused to gather her words—they came easier as Ladybug than Marinette but there were still times that she wondered how to phrase something.

"…Not nearly as much fun as when you're by my side."

"But, of course. Cats are wonderful companions that way," Chat Noir drawled with a wink. "And I like to think I'm the _purr_ fect partner to bring a bit of joy into our work."

 _"Mm_ … _"_ She rolled her eyes, unable to hide the amusement in her tone as she mumbled, "I suppose I can't argue with that. There was no one to throw goofy puns at the villains this week. Mine aren't even _half_ as good as yours."

"You try, but it's a fact sad that not even a lady as _meow_ velous as you can't be great at everything. Just _mew_ st things."

She giggled and he felt his heart soar, "So, that's why I'm here, to make up the witty banter any good superhero adventure needs." A very pleased expression sat on his features. She missed him. She enjoyed his company. He knew she must, but _hearing_ it was so much better.

"Though, when you do make them, I always find them wonder _fur_ l."

By now, Ladybug had pressed the back of her hand to her mouth in some totally indiscreet way of hiding her smile. Really, when given an inch, he would go the mile, and she could only find relief in the jokes that slipped past her partner's lips.

They were the same as before, and there was a kind of comfort in knowing that.

She shifted her eyes to the city lights and buildings below, moving to take a seat on the end of the ledge so that her legs hung freely off the side. Even with everything that had happened, guilt had a funny way of making itself known and Ladybug had to force herself not to frown, to furrow her brow with the sudden pang of uneasiness that reverberated in her chest.

She still wholeheartedly believed that had it not been for her own careless behavior that night, abandoning her partner, he would have never had to suffer through so much pain.

Chat Noir watched her sit down, tilting his head slightly. It wasn't unheard of for them to sit and talk, but he would think after his absence… she'd be a bit more business. A patrol on her own couldn't have been nearly as thorough. Two sets of eyes were better, especially when one saw in the dark.

A glance was thrown back into his direction, a hand lifting itself to beckon the other to join her.

He moved over to sit beside her on the ledge, crouched at first. Looking her over once, before letting his legs slip over the side to sit on the ledge properly. "Is there something on your mind, My Lady?"

Ladybug could sense his hesitation—maybe a little bit of confusion, too. Was it pointless? She hadn't spent too much time with the other as Marinette and yet she was already very comfortable in his presence.

But, there was something else, some lingering emotion she couldn't quite place. The _fluttering_ in her stomach, the way her heart _raced_ in his proximity or how genuinely _fearful_ she had become seeing him hurt. [The first two things she only experienced with Adrien? It was peculiar.]

She was afraid to confirm anything without being one hundred percent sure of herself. And lately, even the things she thought she was so sure about were decreasingly rapidly in their percentages.

They should be patrolling, she knew, and yet she wanted this to last a tiny bit longer.

"Yeah," Ladybug admitted, shoulders slumping a little and loosening her yo-yo so that the cord dangled off the edge along with her legs.

"Maybe I'm thinking too much. Chat Noir, have you ever—ah, _doubted_ yourself?"

Too vague. "Not in ability, I mean, we all do that sometimes. But… feelings, toward anything. Whether they're good or bad doesn't matter."

"Doubt?" repeated Chat Noir.

At first, he almost wanted to say no. It was the partner she was used to. Cocky, confident.

Except… looking at her, she seemed bothered by something. And again, he couldn't lie. He didn't want to lie.

It was a vulnerability he hadn't shown yet, but maybe it was about time he did. He wanted her to love him, and that included knowing the parts of him that weren't so great. And if knowing those parts helped her figure out her own problems, then it was worth talking about them, right?

"All the time," he said, looking out at the view of the rooftops, his grin falling from his face. He leaned back on his hands, kicking his feet idly.

"I can understand the thinking too much. Sometimes it feels like that's all I'm doing. But there's a lot that I've questioned my feelings for. I think being a superhero is the only thing I haven't wondered about at some point." He offered a weak laugh and lightly scratched his cheek.

It wasn't an easy admission. Most days, people's opinions on Chat Noir didn't matter too much as long as they didn't think he was a criminal. [There were bad days, where that changed, but… those were unavoidable.]

Chat Noir didn't exist for approval. He existed to do good, to function as an escape, to be there for Ladybug. Ladybug's opinion always mattered.

She listened intently to the admissions that passed his lips while keeping her eyes settled on the buildings below. "I see…" Then, it wasn't only her. "Merci."

It was obvious now. With Marinette, he spoke more of himself, and more openly. Ladybug felt undeserving of this, and yet he still allowed her to access this part of him after just being _asked_. In all honesty, Chat Noir didn't want to run from her. He knew she wanted distance, professionalism. He would respect that and while there would be the occasional poke, a test for more closeness, he was very careful to never give a forceful push.

If His Lady asked, then he would give what he was allowed to. It was a moment, of vulnerability and mutual understanding.

Another few minutes passed in silence before Ladybug stood, walls drawn up again. She wanted to keep talking, but that luxury wasn't always available when wearing these suits.

"Let's finish checking the city out and head home," she suggested quietly before offering a hand to help him up.

He smiled wistfully and took her hand, pulling himself up to his feet. His grip on her hand lingered. "Doubt … isn't always bad. Sometimes it lets us see what we couldn't before," he said and then let go of her hand, and a wide grin spread across his face.

"And _purr_ haps it'll let you re _claw_ sider charming cats~"

She blinked.

Doubt...

Doubt wasn't a bad thing. He was right. And how many times had she realized this? How many times had Chat Noir had been right thus far? How many times had she doubted herself?

She didn't want to admit that his remark had struck her for once. Head spinning, heart rate rising—there was no way she would let him know that he was just short of having her wrapped around his finger.

One exasperated sigh later, Ladybug offered a gentle smile and reached out to playfully prod the other's chest.

Roses bloomed in his cheeks. He hadn't been sure if he should say more. It was a more serious personal conversation than was usually allowed with Ladybug. He knew she wanted to keep the two lives divided, and it always felt like a tightrope when he pushed those boundaries, trying to not make her actually uncomfortable.

Ladybug leaned in and he swallowed hard. _"Mon chaton,_ and _purr_ haps, it'll help _you_ understand how absolutely _claw_ ful your puns are!"

Then she laughed, drawing back, retracting her yo-yo just enough to swing it past the ledge—and hopped down.

His heart was pounding.

"And yet, _mew_ still smile for _meow,"_ Chat Noir called after her, following along to begin their patrol. He had always adored her, but at times like this, he couldn't help but fall for her all over again.

Somehow, there was a fleeting moment, a flicker of his own doubt. Thinking of delicate hands working on fabric, of worried whispers in the dark, of a scarf created with so much dedication and affection.

Just a moment because now he had a city to focus on.


	11. parlons

_A/N: aksjhldf i've been super slow, i know. having kind of a hard time bc life is life, but i want to get back to updating this frequently. ;v; hope you're all still with me!  
the action starts up again next chapter!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

xi.  
parlons.

 _Tu ne manques jamais de m'impressionner._

* * *

He wanted to be Marinette's friend.

The more he got to know the girl, the more he liked her. He enjoyed the time he spent with her, but as Chat Noir, their options for hanging out was limited. One couldn't exactly stroll around town with a superhero unnoticed and he didn't want to put her in that sort of position.

At least as _Adrien_ , he was less easy to pick out in a crowd at a distance. [Cat ears weren't subtle in the slightest.] The problem in this case was Marinette's tendency to behave nervously in his presence and Adrien only having so much reason to bother her.

So, he needed an excuse.

* * *

She had awoken that morning to Tikki's voice. _"Marinette, you're going to miss class!"_

This had been enough to catch her attention and she'd blinkingly rose from her bed, scrambling into the bathroom to brush her teeth and slip on clothing. Racing out the door in the next instant, foregoing breakfast for the bell. Not like it was the first time… but tardiness wasn't something to make a habit of.

Thanks to yesterday's late night adventures. She wondered if these setbacks that came with being Ladybug were really worth it.

* * *

As the others shuffled around to take their seats, Marinette entered the classroom, setting her bag on the desk and pulling out her chair. Surprisingly, she still had a few minutes to spare before the bell. Alya, however, wasn't blind to the disheveled state her best friend had just scrambled in as.

"Girl, _what is up?_ You've been late every other day this month," she commented as Marinette slid into the seat beside her. "Seriously, are you okay? Do I need to do something?"

"No, no, everything's fine. Just overslept… Guess I've been staying up too late," Marinette sheepishly added, rubbing her nape. She was prepared to say more but her gaze moved to a pair of students that stepped into the classroom only moments after her.

"I just need to find them," Adrien said to Nino, blue scarf draped around his neck. The weather was fairly nice, but his friend had noticed him playing with the end of the accessory and, expectedly, he asked about it. Which opened up the way for a conversation he hoped _Marinette_ would overhear.

"Nathalie said she'd ask my father, and I left him a voicemail, but just because he was impressed by their work doesn't mean he'll remember the name even if he finds time to answer."

"And you're doing all this just for some accessories?" Nino questioned, brow arched.

While Adrien and Nino were clearly chatting about something, Marinette's attention was on the scarf around his neck rather than the topic of conversation. _Her gift!_

Adrien shrugged. "It's my favorite scarf. Of course, I'd like to see some of their other work." He sat down in front of Marinette, fighting the urge to look back.

At hearing these words leave the blonde, she'd perked up and subconsciously leaned forward in her seat to eavesdrop. Wait—so, he was he looking for the designer of his scarf? Alya bit back a laugh at the sight, also intrigued by this and nudged Marinette to speak up. The girl's eyes widened and she shook her head, palms held up to symbolize that she would much prefer to stay out of this.

She didn't care about the credit… well, maybe a _tiny_ part of her wanted Adrien to know but the rest of her screamed that this was only asking for trouble.

"Okay, so, you dad doesn't remember the name. What are you gonna do then?"

 _Yes, good._ Adrien could kiss him. Marinette hadn't said anything, but the longer they kept this up, the faster his plan would unfold. "Well, I assume that my father was impressed enough to buy from them. I've told you how picky he is about what I wear, so the fact he didn't offer them a job means they have to be too young. And he was here that whole week, back and forth from headquarters, so at least it's not all of Paris, just that general area where he could have seen them."

"A good chunk of Paris," Nino affirmed with a roll of his eyes.

"It's something. I have to be patient and listen around, right?"

Marinette's heart seemed to flutter in her chest the higher she lifted from her seat to listen—almost childishly so. He was interested in finding the designer. [That much was obvious.] And judging from the conversation, it didn't appear as though the fact that his father had 'gifted' him the scarf would change.

Surely, he still believed that. This was a win-win situation, something she could take advantage of to impress him and the bluenette parted her lips to speak.

No voice came out.

A sigh escaped instead and she'd slumped back into her seat, the rush from moments earlier dissipating into doubt.

Doubt. She truly hated the word now.

Adrien heard the sigh behind him and it was hard to not do the same. Come on, Marinette, he _wasn't_ that intimidating, was he? How could someone so brave be so intimidated by his opinion? Regardless, he kept his expression schooled so his disappointment didn't show as he conversed with Nino.

"Dude, when you get an idea in your head, you get kind of crazy about it. Do you know that?"

Nino acted a mix of baffled and amused, and Adrien could only flash a grin at him, "I prefer to think of it as dedication." He glanced down at the scarf, continuing after a moment. "If they got my father to change his habits, even just once, they must have something really fantastic about them."

While Alya often did her best to support her best friend while maintaining true to her wishes, it seemed she couldn't sit back and watch the scene without _some_ kind of input. She huffed and shot Marinette a look which in turn caused a brief look of panic to flicker across the latter's features, then shifted to lean forward—tapping Adrien on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Couldn't help but overhear you guys, but I have an idea as to who made your scarf—"

 _"—What she means is…"_ Marinette's hand had never been quicker to move, clasped firmly over the other female's mouth as a nervous smile graced her own. The blood had very clearly rushed to her cheeks and combined with the untidy hair and a jittery disposition, she looked a _mess._

"W-We can help you look for them! Somewhere in Paris, right? You know… This opens up _a lot_ of possibilities, _aha…_ So, maybe it's better to give up—I mean, that's an idea, too."

Adrien had appeared hopeful when Alya began, chanting Marinette's name in his head. And it took all his willpower not to groan in disappointment when the female in question interrupted, forcing himself to offer her a surprised expression. "I'm not giving up," he finally declared and the determination was evident in his tone.

No way was he going to give her an out.

Nino snorted. This was not as unusual as it might seem to the girls. "He's got that look on his face. Paris is going to be turned upside down before he gives up. Last time he looked like that, he almost burnt down my kitchen."

Shit. Adrien's eyes widened, snapping his head towards his best friend. _"Nino!"_

"But, to be fair, after the… what, _twelfth_ attempt? He actually made edible scrambled eggs."

Adrien felt his face burning now, but he had expressed an interest in a friendship with Alya and Marinette many times already. He knew Nino was only trying to help. Who knew he could both appreciate a friend and want to strangle them at the same time? It wasn't his fault having private chefs meant he never learned to cook!

Had Marinette not been preoccupied with her own feelings, she may have pressed for more details regarding 'The Misadventures of Adrien and Nino in the Kitchen.' He was obviously blushing. And so determined. Was there no changing his mind?

These thoughts were replaced with confusion when he returned his gaze to her. "Anyway," the blonde muttered, sucking in a deep breath even if his cheeks remained a faint pink. Time to be as direct as possible. "I did want to talk to you, Marinette. You're a pretty talented designer, too. I actually thought it might be you… You've impressed him before, but I guess not? I was wondering if you knew of any sort of gathering or club with which they might be involved."

She was forced to run his words through her mind several times before fully comprehending what he'd just asked. "Ah, something like that…?" Clubs, gatherings? _Think, think, think..._ It would be so easy to just tell him and by this point Alya had pried the other female's hand from her face, looking some mixture of excited and exasperated. Too many times she had let Marinette abandon the chance to get close to her crush.

"Well—"

"No, no. You were right the first time. _Marinette_ made your scarf." The sentence left her in a blunt, matter-of-fact manner and her best friend suddenly wanted to die, cheeks burning into shades of red. This time, she said nothing to argue, quickly ducking her head behind her books and groaning Alya's name.

"Sorry, girl." The smile in her voice revealed that she anything but apologetic but Marinette couldn't find it in herself to truly be upset. "Sorta just slipped out."

Clearly, Alya won the best friend award today. "Marinette did?" Adrien questioned, acting as though as he hadn't known. It was easy. He had been prepared, and while he wasn't an official actor, there were enough works for commercials and announcements for him to manage. And there wasn't a trace of hurt either. No, that had all been saved when he confronted Nathalie before.

Dwelling on it, his father wasn't a thief. He didn't do things last minute. He wouldn't have had a moment of panic and decide to take a gift someone else left. The man possessed plenty of money, and it wasn't like Adrien expected him at any given second. He could have easily gone to a store, asked for the most expensive object, and been done with it.

But, Nathalie? If Nathalie was supposed to get it and realized it only then, she would have freaked out. His father had that effect on people. Apparently, that had been the case and she was worried that he would tell his father; he could see it in the tension she didn't usually wear. It had been… an unpleasant confrontation, but he told her to just be honest with him next time.

Those feelings were dealt with on his own. Now, he was going to go for what would make him happy. He was going to be Marinette's friend and get her to talk to him and she'd see the real him and realize she didn't have to be so afraid. Adrien turned to Marinette, the thought making a huge smile break out across his face.

"I should have known! There can't be too many designers our age that would meet his standards. Especially for him to actually commission you."

Okay, maybe it was a bit of unwarranted praise since it wasn't true, but Marinette's designs were amazing enough for him to overlook that fact. "I knew you were great."

Carefully, she raised her head and watched him with wide eyes. He was beaming, with this huge grin she didn't have the pleasure of seeing too often, and her heart felt like it might burst from her chest. The acclaim was plentiful, so much that if she wasn't flustered before, she _certainly_ was now. It was almost like her meeting with Chat Noir all over again—except the feelings produced then and the feelings produced now were based solely on her infatuation with Adrien Agreste.

Marinette wasn't sure where the idea of a commission had come from, but she wouldn't ask. Just play along. It was simple. Maybe a tiny bit of lying could do them both some good. After all, if the truth hurt, she would give _anything_ to avoid it than to see pain flicker in those pretty green eyes.

"It was nothing," she murmured and she couldn't help the smile that tilted her own lips, hands absently lifting to straighten her hair up. "I'm, _um_ , just glad you like it! It came out to suit you well, I think." A bit of a playful tone entered her words, evidently feeling more at ease when talking to the other. "Even if today's kind of warm for a scarf."

There was that self-doubt again. He suspected as much after talking to her as Chat Noir, noticing she believed that his compliments were only his attempt at being nice. And behaving so shyly even though he knew the scarf meant a lot to her only pushed him to keep it up.

Marinette was more gifted she was giving herself credit for, and he was going to let her have her cake and eat it, too. She didn't need to know he knew the truth. As far as _she_ knew, his father still got the scarf for him and yes, it still had meaning—she'd been the one to produce it and she would get the credit.

Adrien chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I thought it'd be better to have a sample of their work to show off when I started asking around. It seemed a shame to not wear it if I had it."

The commendations left his mouth so easily. He could have fooled her if this was just out of kindness. Truly, she didn't deserve to hear such praise but call her crazy… she would sooner kiss him than ask him to stop. [Actually, both were out of the question but it was the thought that counted.] It wasn't a matter of ego to Marinette, but he definitely did well to boost it. Whether that was actually good or bad, she didn't know.

"Especially when it seemed you put a lot of work into it. And you're right, it does suit me. It was an excellent color choice." Adrien leaned on the edge of her desk, smiling up at her. "Would it be alright if I commissioned you for other pieces?" Commissions were good things. That meant she'd have to talk to him to work out details, and if they could do at least that, then hopefully he could help her manage more casual conversations.

And from there, something beyond this awkward avoidance.

Marinette straightened up in her seat as the other leaned toward her desk, keeping her gaze locked on the boy below. She tried her best to seem nonchalant as she answered, "Oh, sure! Anytime, feel free to bug me about it."

Ugh, that came out wrong! Careless? "A-Ah, not that I mean you'd be bugging me! Actually, I'm very flattered—um, honored! That you'd even consider asking me." That was equally as bad. "Basically—yes. You can commission other pieces from me."

They'd exchanged numbers a while ago. This was an opportunity to actually use them. Marinette felt as though everything had somehow fallen into place, and suddenly she was grateful for the girl who sat beside her.

In short, Marinette was too cute for words. "Speaking about bugging…" Adrien cleared his throat, which immediately cued a groan from Nino.

"Oh, dude, don't tell me… seriously, you have a problem."

"What? I think Marinette could make something without it looking tacky on me," he responded with a defensive upturn of the nose. Nino may have been the only reason he hadn't made a pun. It was such a great opening, too. "Not many can pull off red and black dots as well as Ladybug. It doesn't have to be something big. Something small would be enough."

An article of clothing inspired by Ladybug? She knew Adrien was a fan—quite a bit of Paris was, but it was kind of nice to see him so eager to own something modeled after her alter ego. A giggle escaped her at Nino's remark, amused by the banter they tossed back and forth before the blonde had focused all of his attention to her.

"It's hard to find any Ladybug merchandise that a boy can wear and wouldn't be forbidden from ever wearing in public again," he mused, chin resting on his hand and hopefulness glinting in his eyes. "Think you could help me out? Price isn't really a problem, whatever you come up with."

This was her chance to impress him, while also using the excuse to call him and talk to him more often… Get to know him a little better. That _had_ been Chat Noir's advice, right? She nodded head and pressed her thumb to her chest in a, _'leave it to me!'_ type of gesture. " _Ouais_ , you got it! Give me a week! I'll think of something, don't worry."

That was the hardest part, although once inspiration struck, anyone who knew Marinette also knew she'd be at it until the finished product was as perfect as possible.

Adrien could feel a searing, unexpected warmth in his belly as he watched Marinette. She appeared downright giddy; he liked it, that happy energy. It was more than he could cause as Chat Noir, and she was usually too nervous to achieve it around Adrien. Maybe that would improve from here on out?

He would just have to be careful. He _wanted_ to get to know her and he wanted her to get to know him without making it obvious who he was. He _didn't want_ to lead her on until she saw more of the real him. With any luck, Marinette would come to the realization that he wasn't her romantic type.

[He ignored the minor uncomfortable squirming in his gut at that thought.]

"I won't. I have total faith in you," Adrien said, presenting her with an encouraging smile. Madame Bustier arrived with the bell and he turned around, pride swelling in his chest. His plan ended in a success and class had only just started!


	12. dépêche-toi!

_A/N: DUN DUN DUUUN.  
i really appreciate the follows and favorites, you all. not to mention the reviews! i have so much fun reading through them to see what you guys think.  
if there are questions about the story, i'll do my best to reply. however, it may be easier to simply shoot me a PM, so don't be afraid to do that!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

xii.  
dépêche-toi! **  
**

 _Les problèmes frappent Paris._

* * *

The rest of the day seemed to pass quickly. Marinette was on Cloud Nine, heart fluttering over how nice her morning had been. She'd actually talked to Adrien, taken credit for the scarf as she should have from the start, and now he was interested in seeing more for her.

Alya received the brunt end of her enthusiasm, though she hadn't appeared to mind. The definition of a best friend; Marinette didn't know where she would be without the other girl by her side. In fact, she was determined to start her project as soon as she returned home.

Separating from Alya and taking the time to gain inspiration strolling the streets, sketchbook in hand and bag across her shoulders, she tapped the end of her pencil to her lips and hummed. Gaze wandering over her fellow Parisians, she flipped a page and began to draw: Something similar to a letterman jacket where the color scheme was red and black. That could look nice if done properly! And a little touch of Ladybug on either the pockets or chest.

"Hmm." As the bluenette passed an electronics store, she noticed that some local wrestling tournament was playing on the televisions. She paused to idly observe them, blinking and stepping toward the glass. The slightly larger of the two adversaries appeared to be doing much better, though it was obvious that the smaller was putting his entire training's worth of effort to at least hold his ground. It was nearing its end and she couldn't help but watch as the larger ended up winning—a huge grin on his face and applause from bystanders, the audience.

She smiled a little to see that open, genuine happiness but then frowned at the expression that settled on the loser's face.

It must have been an awful feeling. To work so hard only to fail.

Like what might happen after trying to make something for… _No,_ Marinette reminded herself not to think so negatively. She didn't need another reason to stress out about. With a sigh, she continued on the path for the bakery, the only thoughts on her mind being the design and Adrien's response.

* * *

Adrien, to say the least, was very pleased. His excitement was even enough to counter the tiredness from the long night before. He knew Marinette was kind. Understanding. She _liked_ Chat Noir, so even if she might be disappointed that Adrien wasn't as perfect as she thought, she would still _like_ him as a good friend, surely.

He would have someone he could be more of himself with, and probably make things a little less awkward for Nino; he could properly complain about Adrien's 'dorkiness' to someone else without Adrien having to worry about his appearance. As it turned out, Nino seemed to notice the lift in his mood and spent the rest of the day teasing him good-naturedly about it, asking if Adrien finally noticed how cute Marinette was, too.

Adrien played it off, claiming he just felt she'd be a good friend, and tried to not think that Marinette _was_ pretty cute… So, Nino smiled in that way that meant he was happy for his best friend finally reaching out—and for all that Chat Noir was supposed to be bad luck, getting assigned to sit next to this guy had been the second best thing to ever happen to him.

School eventually ended and worked called. He bid Nino farewell, glancing over to see Marinette leaving with Alya. She looked adorably happy, and he couldn't help his own grin as he climbed into the car. Today was a wonderful day.

[Too wonderful.]

It happened as they arrived at the studio for a photoshoot. There was a _crash_ from the stadium a few blocks from their current location and Adrien whipped his head around to look down the street as an Akumatized villain appeared in a hole in the building, an over the top luchador. Green eyes widened, jaw tensing—

He was shouting discouraging phrases, things along the lines of, "No matter how hard you work, you can never win!"

And before Adrien had the chance to analyze the situation, an earsplitting ring caught him off-guard. Cringing and clutching his suddenly aching head, he sucked in a breath and found himself making hard contact with the ground seconds following his susceptibility. It made no sense… it felt as though someone had pinned him down and yet there was nothing in sight.

He struggled, trying to get to his feet again, but remained unable to. Panic wormed its way through him. He needed to _change_. There were many people on this street but he couldn't move a muscle.

The car door opened and he saw the Gorilla's feet from his position. How did he avoid getting pinned?

Ah, _the bell!_ However, if it was already in effect, how was he going to stand up? Either way, he noted that the Akumatized villain was taking the big man into consideration as someone strong who deserved a more personal touch to his defeat. Understandably, a human against one of Le Papillon's minions wasn't going to end well.

* * *

News traveled fast in this city. It flickered through the television stations, through opened mouths and hasty legs and without wasting a second, Marinette had transformed and headed for the presumed location of the damage. This couldn't be due to the tournament she'd seen just a little while earlier, right?

Gazing down at the scene, a pang of unease hit her chest. Adrien… _Adrien!_ Trapped to the ground by some invisible force? Thankfully, he appeared otherwise unharmed and the superheroine sucked in a deep breath to keep her cool, hopping down from the buildings onto the limousine parked by the photoshoot.

He called himself the Lutteurdor and he was far stronger, far bigger than the human counterpart she'd remembered seeing on television. Ladybug frowned, swinging her yo-yo around as she called for his attention. _"Viens ici—!"_

Just these words were enough to provoke the wrestler, who shifted his attention from Adrien's driver to the spotted girl perched on the roof of the car instead. He let out a yell and charged; Ladybug was quick to react, tugging the man and jumping aside. As expected, the Lutteurdor completely demolished the vehicle and it was the bell that sounded that caught her by surprise.

She gently nudged Adrien's driver to get to safety and assured him that she'd take care of this, quickly darting her eyes to the blonde who was now picking himself off of the ground. In the few moments she had the Akumatized villain distracted, she swept in while throwing her yo-yo up to a nearby building—"Hold on tight!"—then, wrapped an arm around the other's waist and legs and easily lifted him up.

He had been saved by his Lady. It was impossible to deny the thrill he experienced anytime Ladybug picked him up. Adrien couldn't help it; there was something extremely attractive about a girl who could literally throw him if she wanted to. Though he was quite sure she didn't plan to try that because he wasn't _Chat Noir_ , he was Adrien— _Adrien_ , yes, he _couldn't_ be Chat Noir right now, even if it was painfully difficult to resist the temptation and make a comment with her holding him like this.

Ladybug carried the boy bridal-style and followed the cord up to the rooftops. He should be safer in the elevation. She would try her best to defeat the wrestler down below in the meantime. Setting him onto his feet, the heroine retracted her yo-yo and quickly asked, "Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

His face was red and he was staring at her in awe. He felt oddly exposed. Maybe because he wanted to be Chat Noir, but knew it wasn't the best idea. Not to mention that Ladybug was _right there._

And she'd just asked him a question. Answer! He had to answer! " _Euh_ , yes! Yes, it was just a fall. I'm fine." Warn her, Chat Noir needed to run around so she didn't realize he came from where Adrien had previously been. "The bell! The… There was a ringing sound?—before I hit the ground! I don't think my driver heard it in the car."

He was flushed and she wondered if she had somehow embarrassed him. Was it because she'd carried him here? But, then he was speaking and Ladybug quickly realized that the pause had been more out of surprise than shyness. Well, obviously he liked the superheroine. Most of Paris did—and she was always careful not to get a big head from the knowledge. Whatever the reason for his awe, she found it very cute. If he was having trouble focusing on her words, then the opposite was just as likely.

Ladybug cleared her throat and forced herself to tear her gaze away from him to the Akumatized villain on the ground. Glancing around, car destroyed, evidently searching for the girl who had tricked him. "A bell… Yeah, I heard it when he went for your car." A sheepish laugh followed this. "And sorry about that! Should be fine again after I get ahold of the Akuma.

"Father can afford another car, don't worry about it." Adrien wanted to smack himself for the mistake. He knew the Cure would fix everything in the city anyway. Ugh, was this what happened when he couldn't distract her with puns? He certainly sympathized a lot more with Marinette if he made her feel like this at all. Not _exactly_ like this, but trying to not look like an idiot in front of your crush was fairly similar to not wanting to give yourself away to your crush and crime fighting partner _while_ _also_ trying to not look like an idiot.

It was agonizing to avoid falling into the usual banter, but she'd be furious if he made it that easy to figure him out. "It rang again? I could move after the car was destroyed, too…" He wanted to offer his own conclusion, that maybe there was a time limit—one bell to be pinned, another bell to end it. Yet, he didn't want to seem too used to this.

"I think I know why. Right now, it's too dangerous to bring you down so I suggest you hang up here. Or hide somewhere in this building if you can." Reaching out to dust off the front of Adrien's shirt, his shoulders, casually adjusting his collar and offering what she hoped was a reassuring grin, Ladybug questioned him, "Sound good?"

She was touching him. Of course, she touched Chat Noir, but it was _different_ because he _wasn't_ Chat Noir, and the touch was lingering and did she do this with everyone she saved? He'd never noticed anything like that; she was usually straightforward and on-task, so why did she feel the need straighten out his clothes?

No way was this blush going to disappear. "Um. Y-Yes, definitely. I'll hide." And transform. _"Bonne chance_ , Ladybug."

Judging from the ever-present redness in his cheeks, she figured the effects of touching him had caused more discomfort than her intention to console. She withdrew her hands awkwardly, teeth worrying her plush bottom lip. So, maybe Marinette was taking advantage of her confidence as Ladybug, but really!—she hadn't meant to be _this_ intrusive of personal space.

"Y-Yeah, okay. Thanks! I appreciate it." She immediately hopped to neighboring rooftops, trusting the blonde to take care for now. A wave of butterflies was released in his stomach; Adrien was almost literally melting into a puddle of goo. He watched her go, sighing blissfully and placing a hand on his shoulder. Eventually, he turned and headed for the door that lead down into the building as Plagg complained about their sappy display. This was dismissed. His Lady was waiting for him, after all!

With a quick transformation, he found the nearest window and started hopping along rooftops down the road. He just needed to come from a different direction—it would only take a few minutes. His Lady would be fine that long. Of course, she would be; he knew how great at handling difficult situations she was and consequently burrowed away the worry in his gut.

Bluebell eyes flew to the Lutteurdor's belt. It was likely where the Akuma was trapped. If Ladybug could just get a hold of it, then everything would work out… Perhaps she didn't even need Chat Noir's help? The kitty cat seemed to be running late to the show and this thought, although something she really didn't prefer—[they were a team]—fueled her determination to deal with the situation alone.

The superheroine dove head-first into the perimeter of the fight and the wrestler yelled something about losing and winning to her, but she wasn't paying attention to his words, too busy dodging the various cars and cameras hurled in her direction. Ladybug tossed her yo-yo around to help escape the face of danger.

She immediately regretted assuming she could handle this on her own. Doing so much ducking, running around _and_ trying to retrieve his belt? She huffed quietly in exasperation, "Don't move—!" as she flung herself directly at the villain. If things went as planned, she'd be able to hook the cord around his waist and tug, making it ten times easier to remove his belt.

She was too slow.

Ladybug blinked as he swung his arm out to summon an invisible force, sensing her body make rough impact with the wall behind her. A heavy weight held her down and even using all the strength she possessed in this form, she could only thrash futilely. There was a blinding pain in her back—no, her left shoulder, white hot and _excruciating_.

Curses spilled past Ladybug's lips but she managed to bite back a cry, gritting her teeth and continuing to struggle. If there was a limit to his power, then it was only a matter of time… or not. Pins only lasted a few seconds in professional wrestling and by now, her limbs had grown numb with the pressure. The only way out of this was to divert the villain's attention to something or someone else—and who was known as the master of distractions?

 _'Chat Noir…! Please, hurry up!_ ' she frantically thought to herself. He'd be here soon. She had complete faith in him.


	13. à mon tour

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

xiii.  
à mon tour **  
**

 _C'est un mauvais moment._

* * *

Once he was several buildings away from 'Adrien,' he moved back to the rooftops, running along edges to case out the fight.

It was then his blood ran cold.

Ladybug was restrained. It seemed that not even her strength could help her. And the Lutteurdor was quickly approaching. Chat Noir didn't hesitate, kicking off the side of the building, extending his baton to hit the building and using both the push and gravity to increase his momentum. He came in with a dropkick for the wrestler's head, which was enough to make him stumble.

It was a bit nerve-wracking even as a superhero when he took some of the impact and landed in a crouched position before eventually straightening up. Relax, he just needed to turn all the attention away from his partner. "Didn't you know, _monsieur?_ This is a tag team match!" he taunted their adversary, permitting a cocky grin to slip onto his face. The Akumatized villain roared and went after Chat Noir as the bell rang.

Not wanting to test that sort of brutish strength, the cat bolted and began speaking like an announcer—of all things. Really, how could he resist? "Oh, and the Lutteurdor just barely misses his lithe opponent. Can this powerhouse keep up with the speed and agility of Chat Noir?!"

The relief was overwhelming. Ladybug wanted to cry the moment her partner entered her line of vision, immensely grateful for the speed in which he had appeared. After he'd briefly disoriented the wrestler with the dropkick, she felt the burden on her body disappear and released a deep sigh as she fell to her knees. Right hand automatically lifting to cradle the opposite shoulder.

She wasn't an idiot. The impact with the wall had done damage; she was pretty sure the bone had been forced out of her socket—dislocated.

But she had more important things to worry about at the moment and capturing the Akuma was at the top of her priorities. Hopping to her feet, Ladybug was careful not to stress her left arm as she swung her yo-yo into the air and summoned her _Lucky Charm._

With Chat Noir doing a wonderful job of keeping the Akumatized villain occupied—she would need to thank him for that, as silly as this announcer tactic was—the plucky heroine could take a moment to recharge and come up with a plan. Catching the red and black spotted item that had appeared in the air, she froze.

A _hubcap?_

She frowned and turned the large metal piece around in her hand. What could she do…? _What could she do?_

Ladybug glanced around, trying to map out a plan as quickly as possible [to save her partner from becoming putty in the off chance the Lutteurdor managed to get a hold of him.] Her gaze landed on the head of a nearby fountain—the way the wrestler moved his arms—and the water in their proximity.

Chat Noir knew very well that if he was caught, it would be a _cat_ astrophe. The Akumatized villain was ridiculously strong, stronger than _both_ of them combined, and he had no desire to find out how well his own abilities stood up to that kind of raw power. However, even if he was relatively fast for a big guy, there was no way he could match the feline's speed. Especially when he was so easy to rile!

And that was the fun part.

As he kept up the commentary, describing every move… complete with sounds of awe and pain, it was difficult to keep from laughing. Who knew learning how to properly project his voice would come in handy for a fight? [He wondered what his father would think of him using those public speaking lessons this way.] Chat Noir refused to look away from his target; for as long as he had his attention, His Lady was safe, and surely she would figure something out.

He simply had to stay out of direct reach and besides the pinning ability, it seemed that the wrestler's attacks were limited to close range. This made Chat Noir's work much more dangerous. He figured the Lutteurdor wanted a real match, but that meant treating it more like one. If he gained too much distance, he was sure he'd hear the bell ring and get pinned again.

No, he _had_ to stay close. He had to keep provoking him and hitting that ego enough to make the villain keep trying. And for the most part, it seemed to work. Chat Noir managed to dodge under arms and between legs, countering with kicks that were followed by springboard-type jumps. It was risky. But, _damn_ , it was fun.

Ladybug leaped forward to crouch on the top of the fountain, standing and balancing herself. Her first instinct had been to throw the hubcap at the Akumatized villain but as soon as she was seen, the other had raised his arms in her direction. Ignoring the pang of fear that struck her chest, she quickly hid behind the hubcap and swung her yo-yo around several times. To her pleasant surprise, his ability to pin was unable to work with the shiny round object impeding its path and the force rebounded to collide with himself instead.

Although his thick skin left him unscathed and able to stand, it had caught him off-guard; Ladybug took this opportunity to lasso the wrestler with her yo-yo, throwing it around his waist and hopping backward from her perched position to pull with her entire body weight. Fortunately, her efforts were rewarded. The villain stumbled forward into the fountain water with a loud splash and Ladybug immediately alerted her partner.

"Chat Noir! Quick, the belt!" The yo-yo cord was not easily broken. So long as the Lutteurdor was tangled up and unable to stand, they could win. Chat Noir acted the instant her voice reached his ears. _"Cataclysm!"_ he shouted, gathering the dark energy in his fist, swiping at the leather of belt, and grabbing the buckle.

The buckle was the only part that mattered, after all. He tossed it up to Ladybug.

She caught it with her good arm, hopping down from the fountain and smashing the vessel under her foot. Despite the searing pain in her body, her attention was fixed solely on ending this. Particularly after the two of them had expended their powers, used up their Miraculouses—she possessed a limited time to handle everything before their transformations wore off.

Within moments, the Akuma emerged. Ladybug proceeded to purify it, freeing a small butterfly and watching as it fluttered off. _"Bye, bye, petit papillon."_ Then, tossing the hubcap into the air, she turned back all the destruction and accidents caused since the villain's appearance.

Adrien's photoshoot was rebuilt along with the limousine and several other vehicles in the vicinity. Chat Noir sighed as he glanced around. He was probably still expected to do the photoshoot, but at least he didn't need to worry about the car. It might have amounted to nothing in the end; his father could be so protective at times. Yet as far as he knew, Adrien had never been in any true danger. Made a minion, sure, but never _hurt._

Ladybug watched as the Lutteurdor reverted back to his human form—dry and untangled—and with a small smile, she absently gripped her injured shoulder while crouching down in front of the confused male.

"Hard work pays off eventually. You'll see. Never doubt your abilities."

Like she had room to talk, but this wasn't about her right now.

Green eyes flickered down to Ladybug, watching her comfort the poor man. It was just another thing he loved about her. She was kind and so full of compassion for these people. He was convinced that being open with this attitude was what helped the city of Paris itself forgive victims who couldn't help themselves.

Upon standing, Ladybug flashed him a tired smile, which he immediately returned. The cat was always dependable, despite his bravado and flirtatious nature. As adventurous as the fight turned out to be, he had been doing quite a lot of dodging and kicking and she knew he must be exhausted.

[Perhaps the adrenaline high was what caused him miss how she held her shoulder.]

 _"Bien joué,"_ they spoke in unison, bumping their fists together in customary parting. "And victory by ring out, Team Ladybug and Chat Noir!~" the masked hero added as his partner let out a quiet chuckle and rolled her eyes.

And then _her_ earrings and _his_ ring were beeping and it was time to vanish. Without so much as another word, Ladybug ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Warning signs. Every second counted. Once she was out of sight, slipping discreetly into an alleyway to detransform, she apologized to Tikki for her prolonged state as Ladybug and started for the bakery. It didn't help that the pain was only worse without the suit.

Of course, her kwami wouldn't let her go without making a fuss first, anxiously exclaiming that she needed to see a doctor as soon as she was able to.

"I know—j-just gotta think of an excuse to tell Maman and Papa," Marinette murmured under her breath, eyes finally allowed to swim in tears. Maybe things weren't as serious as they seemed.


	14. la pleurnicharde

_A/N: i am listening to crybaby by the nbhd on repeat, someone help._

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

xiv.  
la pleurnicharde **  
**

 _Je passe trop de temps à m'expliquer._

* * *

The initial feeling had been awful. Marinette was thankful for the healing abilities that came with her Miraculous; as opposed to suspending her arm for four to twelve weeks in a sling like the doctor had stated, she estimated about half that time. An anterior dislocation, very common—the humeral head of the bone had moved to a position in front of her joint, causing her to feel immense pain every time she raised her arm. So, she was careful, avoiding awkward movements.

Things appeared to work out for the most part. Expectedly, her parents had been far more concerned with treatment than _how_ Marinette had managed to get herself injured. Something as vague as 'tripping' seemed to do the trick.

It came as no surprise when they didn't let her go to school for a little while.

And in that time, the span of three days now, she was a mess.

Dizzy, sleepy, moody, constantly taking medication and forced to sit in her room or the parlor for hours. Alya brought her homework. At first, she was determined not to let her best friend find out about the injury in fear of worrying her, but there was no stopping the junior reporter from scooping out the truth. Then her chastises came, but Marinette braced herself and was actually relieved that the other female would go through the trouble of seeing to her needs.

She _truly_ was the best friend one could ask for. Thankfully, Ladybug and Chat Noir hadn't been required to meet often this week. Paris was quiet, no talk of strange villains or massive destruction on the news—and she certainly wasn't upset about that. Of course, she assumed Chat Noir noticed Ladybug's absence these last few nightly patrols but she could pass it off as a family emergency the next time she saw him.

Friday evening. Almost half past ten.

At the moment, there was just one thing pressing on her mind as she sat at her desk, twirling a pencil between her fingers and staring at the sewing machine in the corner of her room. This creeping realization that there was no way she could work on Adrien's commission… finally, an opportunity to become _close_ had been given to her—and had been promptly discarded on the same day.

To her own surprise, tears began to form in her eyes. She pursed her lips, quickly brushing the back of her right arm over her face and sniffling. It was hardly the first time she'd cried in the last couple days, but somehow, this kind of childish self-pity made her feel better. At least she was alone. She wouldn't dare make this face in front of her parents or even Alya.

For all they knew, she was just tired and grumpy.

* * *

Chat Noir tried to not worry when Ladybug didn't appear for their patrols. He had seen Ladybug leave after the fight with the Lutteurdor.

She was fine. She was in one piece. She didn't move like she had internal bleeding, so he was sure it was nothing physical.

Maybe, she just needed a break. Sometimes disappearing for a bit helped clear the mind—usually only a few days. Yes, he had to remember that the odd part of his disappearance was not showing himself for the Akuma attacks. If she didn't appear by the time it happened, _then_ he would worry. For… quite a few reasons, but that was a bridge to cross when it came up.

And if that wasn't enough, Adrien was concerned, too, because Marinette didn't show up for school! Being late was common, but it was rare for her to be completely absent. After the third day, he convinced Nino to ask Alya what was up. And by evening, he finally had an answer.

Apparently she'd been hurt. Some part of him worried if his bad luck was contagious. The day he asked her for a commission, she got hurt? And only a short while after she helped Chat Noir's injury… What were the odds? Of course, then came the question of what to do. He longed to visit her, to see how bad it is, to _help,_ but, no, he couldn't possibly do that.

If he visited alone, it would seem like a truly invested attention on Marinette. Something she might take as romantic interest, and then he was leading her on, and ugh. No, _now way_ , he couldn't do that to her.

He decided to shoot a text to Nino on how they should see her together tomorrow. That would work, right? If he was with Nino, and probably Ayla, then that was a 'friendship level' of concern. It'd help them bond, in the very least.

Ah, but, Chat Noir? Chat Noir could do whatever he wanted. Really, it'd just be returning the favor. So with the setting sun, he was out on the rooftops. He attempted to call Ladybug, though found no signal. It appeared that she wasn't transformed tonight either. He buried his worry and continued his path to the bakery.

It didn't take long to get there, and thankfully there was no sign of a crime on the way. He reminded himself that Alya may be present. It was a calm Friday night and he wouldn't put it past Marinette's best friend to sleep over and help out.

Chat Noir leaned over the edge of the roof, peeking in through the window.

There she was, sitting at her desk with a sling. Well… she wasn't bedridden. And he didn't see Alya in the room either. He was about to knock on the window when he finally noticed how she was rubbing her eyes.

Marinette was crying.

Could it just be from pain? Or was it something else? Should he knock? He wavered between his options for a few seconds and before he could properly think it over, he had begun to rap his knuckles against the glass. The sound drew her attention. Marinette straightened up, eyes wide and heart pounding, shifting to glance at the window just in front of her.

 _Chat Noir._

He grinned and waved as she noticed him.

She blinked, heart racing and clearly puzzled by his appearance. Why was he here? Hastily sucking in the rest of her tears and sincerely hoping she hadn't just been caught in the middle of brooding, she jumped from her seat and hurried over to open the window.

With one hand, she was a bit clumsy and the frustration was evident on her features as she finally managed to push the glass and greet him. "Chat Noir," the bluenette started, feeling rather awkward. There was no hiding the sling on her left shoulder, even if she tried to shy away from his line of sight. She just hoped he wouldn't prod now that he found out.

"What are you doing here?"

Worst-case scenarios came to mind, per usual. What if he was hurt again? [Did she really have the audacity to think only of herself after abandoning her partner these last couple days?] Then again, no major Akuma had shown up so she could hopefully be reassured that he was doing fine in that regard. "Is everything, _euh_ , okay?"

He was able to confirm it now. She had definitely been crying; her eyes were red and puffy ad her cheeks were slightly flushed. But her arm wasn't still hurting that badly, was it? So, why was she upset?

"On _my_ end, everything is _purr_ fectly _feline_ ," Chat Noir answered, lifting his fingers in a dismissive wave. "But, I heard it might not be so on _your_ end. I like to keep tabs on your class, the high Akuma rate and all."

Because seriously, he wasn't even sure he could be Akumatized and that left only, who? A handful of students and Marinette unaffected. It was oddly concentrated, so it wasn't unreasonable to pay attention to it. "You've been missing a few days and I wanted to check on my favorite princess."

Marinette sighed and stepped aside from the window, gesturing him to come inside. Standing on the ledge outside her bedroom was dangerous, even for a superhero. She'd learned this the hard way—witnessing the cat injured and eventually injuring herself, as well.

"Your favorite princess?" she teased, a smile quirking her lips. "How many do you have?"

Anything to distract from her disheveled state, her reddened eyes and face, the lazy pink pajamas and loose pigtails. But this was Chat Noir, someone she was comfortable around. [Had this been _Adrien_ , she would have sooner scrambled for a brush and a change of clothes, than answer the door.]

"Only one, but that doesn't change the fact you're my favorite." He flashed her a cheeky smile as he climbed in through the window. He wasn't too worried about the ledge. Even if he had slipped, he knew how to take falls greater than the small building. But he _would_ certainly prefer to be inside.

"In any case, I'm alright! Thank you. Had an, um—" She licked her lips, wracking her head for the right words. "Accident. Wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. You know."

He moved around Marinette, looking her over. Chat Noir grew quiet until finishing his visual inspection. "I suppose I can understand not paying attention," the cat hummed. It had been what gotten him. Now he knew just how much kinetic force it actually took to get him through the suit.

Glancing away a bit awkwardly and pursing her lips, she waited as he spoke up again. Given the serious manner in which he produced the words, she could tell that he had been genuinely worried… fearful?

"I must admit, a hurt arm is a relief to what I was imagining." He gestured to the sling with a frown.

Raising her good arm as blue eyes regarded the cat with curiosity, she placed her palm to her nape.

"What were you imagining?"

"Oh, all sorts of horrors!" He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, the other over his chest. "What if my princess had been kidnapped and was waiting for her knight to save her? Or, perhaps, she had been in a car accident and fell into a coma from which she would never wake? Or, even worse…"

Chat Noir leaned forward, looking down at her with wide, terrified eyes. "She developed a cat allergy and was bedridden at the thought I could never visit her safely again?"

She should have expected this. With another deep sigh, shoulders slumped, and Marinette moved to sit on the edge of the daybed while shaking her head. "Chat Noir, your imagination is—!… Very lively?"

"Indeed. I'm a very lively person. I do have nine of them," he responded with a wink, moving over to settle down on the floor nearby. He wasn't sure if they were at the point he could perch on her bed beside her, but he didn't want to be too far.

She may not have been terribly hurt, but she was hurt enough, and there was still the fact that he had seen her crying.

Amusement curved her mouth and she added in a fond voice, "Even if I _had_ developed an allergy for cats, I doubt that would've stopped you from visiting anyway."

Not that she was complaining. Somehow, another presence brought her comfort and she found herself thinking about the irony of this situation—he'd been hurt recently and she'd told him he needed to pay attention—and yet, Marinette couldn't even follow her own advice.

"Though, it's true. I'm an ex _purr_ t with allergy medicines. You might have to take a cat nap afterward, but you wouldn't be _mew_ serable."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks again for the concern, Chat Noir. I'm fine."

He paused, studying her arm, and then glancing up at her face. He stared, just a few beats too long, before finally asking, " _Are_ you fine? It's… alright if you're not."

The hero's brief spiel of puns had already brightened her mood and she couldn't help but reach down with her uninjured arm to gently prod the tip of the kitty cat's nose after he posed the quiet question. Hadn't she just said she was fine?

He doubted her.

Chat Noir straightened up, blinking as she poked his nose as though surprised by the action. Only Ladybug had ever done that before. Then again, Ladybug was the only one close enough to offer those casual touches. …Right, he supposed Marinette was also close now.

"Mmh? Yes…! Yes, of cou—" Somehow, it was much harder to say the words aloud than when she had rehearsed them in her head. Marinette struggled to keep the lump in her throat from growing. " _Aha…_ um. You could say I'm in a bit of a slump right now, I guess."

She didn't want to appear so pitiful. It was childish and silly, but in all honesty, Marinette's character had its fair share of inadequacies and this occasional lack of confidence, this sensitivity was only to name a few.

When she spoke again, he could hear the tightness in her voice. She was very upset. He listened carefully, trying to come up with the best way to comfort her and—

"I just hate being stuck and… unable to _do_ anything."

—Oh. "It can be very frustrating," Chat Noir agreed. The week spent under house arrest had been hellish. To be frank, it was a good thing that Plagg had hidden himself. Ranting about how annoying the kwami was being was enough of a release to stave off the worst of the worry and feelings of uselessness.

His tail wrapped around her ankle and he leaned the back of his head against the bed, looking up at her.

"Is it… Is it in general or was there something you were really looking forward to?" He had a suspicion it might be the latter, but that might have been kind of arrogant.

She met his eyes and parted her lips to speak. Hesitating. Should she tell him? They had talked about many things in their interactions. Surprisingly, Marinette felt that Chat Noir was someone she could confide in. He'd never seemed to judge her and in fact, opened up far more easily around her than around the superheroine.

"Generally…" She decided and she was careful not to shrug for fear of putting pressure on her shoulder. " _Mais, oui_ —I was also looking forward to something."

Chat Noir had noticed the same thing, how much easier it was to speak his mind around Marinette. It was just… it was so _easy_ to talk to her. She just had this warmth and kindness about her that made him feel oddly at ease when he wasn't confused by her.

Which would be a lot less now that he knew what was going on. She was so earnest and threw herself into everything, it was hard to not want to do the same. Adrien still had to hold back, for a lot of reasons, but with Chat Noir, the words came smoothly. He could only hope to offer her consolation.

A sheepish laugh escaped the girl, though it didn't sound particularly happy. " _Euh_ , I've already mentioned Adrien to you… He commissioned a piece from me and I—I actually have the design done! But, I can't work on it until my shoulder heals."

Marinette was rambling, sentences quick and choppy while trailing off nervously in some places. She didn't seem to care for the most part, focused on spilling the feelings from their temporary place in her heart. The bluenette furrowed her brow, pouting as she exclaimed, "It _is_ frustrating! Here, I thought I could finally impress him and then _this_ happens—!" Gesturing to the injured arm with her good one before huffing, reddened cheeks puffed up and blue eyes glassy with newly forming tears. "Some rotten luck I have, huh?"

When she mentioned the piece, he appeared astonished. He had forgotten about it almost completely in the face of the fact Marinette was injured, but he supposed that it made sense. He knew he'd feel equally shitty if he promised to do something for Ladybug and an injury kept him from doing it.

Even if it was just temporary.

"…Well, that depends," Chat Noir muttered in a thoughtful manner, tilting his head. "The thing about bad luck is that you _can_ use it for good luck if you know how to spin it. Trust me, I'm a _purr_ fessional at it." He briefly placed his hand against his chest before it drifted up, rubbing his chin as he looked at the pictures on her wall.

"The way I see it… This is Adrien Agreste. He could go to any designer in the world and they would make something for him. There is probably only a handful who he'd _have_ to pay; there are plenty who would simply take the exposure of Gabriel Agreste's poster boy wearing their clothes," he explained as he returned to face Marinette with a grin. "That means you've already done something to intrigue him. If he wanted clothes, he'd get clothes. It sounds like he wants something _you_ made, _non?"_

Marinette had grown silent, curling her toes, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and glaring sulkily at the ground. However, there was no denying that Chat Noir's words made her feel a little better and she lifted her gaze to watch him as she absently wiped her eyes.

He was right. [Again, _again_ —how many times did this make? She'd stopped keeping count.] Adrien had the ability to go anywhere he pleased for clothing. But he'd asked _her_. He wouldn't be disappointed with the amount of time it took.

"Now, if he's impatient and flighty, this could be a problem. He could lose interest. But if he's not, if you have his attention this much, he would be willing to wait. Or, even better, you could probably work out the finer detail of the designs together since you have so much extra time to work on it while you heal. It could just be me, but it's fascinating to watch you work. _Mew_ be he'd like to see it, too."

Despite the cat's advice, she didn't think her classmate was the type of person to be impatient and flighty. From what little she knew about him, anyway. Calming down, Marinette sat up and released a deep sigh to expel the remainder of her frustration. She sniffled once, feeling mildly embarrassed about her current state now that she was no longer hung up on the commission.

"I… I'm sorry. You have a point, Chat Noir. I guess I'm the one being impatient. There isn't a reason to stress out so much." The thought of working with Adrien, finishing the piece in his presence made her stomach do flips. It would be nerve-wracking to the core, but at the same time, it would be fun and a better option for both of them.

"It's not unreasonable, Princess. You like him, and I believe we talked about how hard it is to not want to impress the people we like," he offered, shrugging. He highly doubted he wouldn't be impressed. Especially to see her work.

After all, he wasn't lying about his fascination.

"Yeah, that's… that's true."

A brief silence passed in which Marinette had reached over to scratch one of his cat ears. "How is it that you always know what to say?" And she'd never admit it, but she was kind of flustered as she confessed, "I feel better whenever I talk to you. You're such a good judge of character. The things you say about Adrien— _c'est bizarre_ —it's almost as though you know him very well!"

He immediately leaned into the touch, relaxing as a purr escaped him. Ugh, it was so _unfair_ how good that always felt. He could melt like this. And it was okay that he was enjoying the sensation of her fingers because it was an excuse to delay his answer.

He had been talking too much about Adrien. "Ah, well… due to a combination of things! When you deal with Akumatized villains, it's worth it to pay attention. If you know why they're upset, they're easier to provoke, manipulate, and to find their object. Plus, I pay attention to your class." That 'high Akuma rate' and all.

He paused.

"And… And I know what it's like to wear a mask like he does. If not for the Bubbler incident, I may not have realized he wore it. I couldn't tell you how extensive it is, I imagine only Nino could. But, once you know what you're looking for, it's not hard to see the evidence."

Marinette did not seem to be suspicious of the somewhat hurried way in which he spoke. "I see!" She supposed it made sense. She could only imagine how observant the other was of her class. Almost possible that he was a classmate or at least someone who attended the same school. [For some reason, that idea still felt a bit far-fetched.]

Chat Noir was beyond relieved to find that she believed him. So, he gave in to his curiosity. It was dangerous, probably some kind of breach of her trust, but he had wanted to know since the day she had told him about her crush.

"Still, I'm sure you know him better than me. I could be wrong on many points. What about you? What have you noticed? What about our dear prince has charmed your heart?"

The question was fairly embarrassing but with her secret already out in the open, she wouldn't mind expressing her feelings to the other. "For starters, he's really nice. Not just to me, but to everyone. And he's smart! Talented, neat, with a quiet sense of humor and these really _green_ eyes," she spoke without shame, heart fluttering in her chest and wearing a goofy little smile.

It was a pleasant surprise, when the first word out of her mouth wasn't some variation of attractive. And at no point did she list it, except for one feature. What an incredibly nice change of pace; when most people looked at him, all they see was a pretty boy. Then it was the rest that made him the 'perfect' son of Gabriel Agreste.

The fact she had noticed his sense of humor was a first and he wondered what she'd think if she ever discovered his affinity for cat puns like Chat Noir. It was pretty funny to imagine.

"I know that a lot of girls and boys like him, so in that sense, I'm not much different. But I want to learn more about him. And if given the chance, I'll gladly take it."

She'd brought up getting to know him—something he found absolutely adorable. He knew how much she wanted to. And… God. He really wanted to get to know her, too. To be her friend, to understand her.

[Even if it met she figured him out. Really, would it be so bad?]

In the past, she would have been far more hesitant but with Alya's encouragement and her own boost in confidence, she felt like she had the ability to at least become much better friends with Adrien. "He's kind of out of my league, though." Marinette laughed. She wasn't dumb—as blinded with love she could get. There were prominent differences between the two.

"So… I don't expect him to like me back or anything. Even if our relationship is one-sided, that's alright with me."

Because then there was Chat Noir. And as much as Marinette pretended it was nothing, this fondness for the kitty cat was growing with every interaction.

It was strange.

His ears had shot up when she claimed he was out of her league, tail tightening around her ankle. "Our of your… I'm pretty sure you meant to say you're out of his league!" Chat Noir didn't even know why, but the thought that this amazing, beautiful girl thought she wasn't good enough was too much to bear. "Any guy would be lucky to have you. Surely, any who took the chance to know you would see the lovely princess that I see. Someone kind, caring, brave, exceptionally talented."

Her cheeks were burning. Even hearing him say such sweet things, she wasn't particularly convinced. He could tell that this was the case and continued speaking without taking a moment to consider his next sentence.

"I bet the only chance someone has to keep from falling for you, is if they're already in love with another."

He tensed. His eyes widened and he quickly glanced at the window behind her head as he realized that he had meant it.


	15. les tentations

_A/N: there will be just one more part to this scene, and we'll get back into some action!_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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xv.  
les tentations **  
**

 _Voici le double jeu._

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Her eyes widened and her pulse thrummed, struggling to find the right words. It didn't sound like just any compliment that so easily passed the cat's lips. And yet, she'd glossed over Chat Noir's infatuation for Ladybug the moment her thoughts became pessimistic—one of Marinette's many bad habits.

"Ah, _putain…"_ A small frown twisted her mouth, insecure, and she glanced at the hero with a desperate gaze, as though searching for more advice to calm her nerves.

"I didn't even consider it… What if he already loves someone else? Then I _definitely_ don't stand a chance."

"Well, just because he's in love, doesn't mean it's requited. He's still single, after all," Chat Noir murmured without missing a beat, eyes still trained on the wall.

A distracted answer.

She took his words to heart, as she often did, and she found solace in the fact that even if Adrien _did_ have his eyes on someone, he wasn't _off-limits,_ so to speak.

And he knew that he shouldn't be building up her hopes for a romance, just a friendship, but his thoughts had gone off on a tangent. He hadn't noticed it, hadn't even acknowledged it until he'd opened his damn mouth. Without a doubt, he loved Ladybug. He would die for her, would grant her every wish if she asked him to.

But, there was also Marinette. Sweet, compassionate, warmhearted Marinette who had dragged in an injured alley cat, listened to his woes, and assured him he could _return_ whenever he wanted to. Intelligent, funny, trustworthy Marinette who had encouraged him to stay strong, who laughed at his jokes, teased him, and sought comfort herself.

With His Lady, there was assurance. When he was with her, there was no question of his ability. If she needed him to do something, then he would have it done. If he was in danger, she would be there, and if she was in danger, he would be there; a balancing act that they never allowed to teeter. It was a life and movement. It was a rush. Fast paced, closeness that spoke of intimacy, but never managed to cross the line.

Breaking down the walls between them remained an everyday struggle; he understood that. She was a tease, even when she didn't mean to be.

With his princess, he discovered a peace he didn't know was possible for a boy like him. He could say what he'd never breathed to anyone else, and he wouldn't be pitied or rejected. He didn't have to put on energy when he lacked it. He could talk and ramble and spout stupid jokes and she would listen and return with an open heart. She made life seem like a slow dance. Bodies close together, swaying side to side—something comfortably platonic… no, something more.

Would it really be so bad if she figured him out?

Of course, his doubts held him back. Because _now,_ he could see clearly that he would have fallen in love with Marinette if things had begun differently, and he wasn't sure how to handle that.

" _Gah…_ Chat Noir, why is love such a complicated thing?"

"Because it's important."

"Are we doing it wrong?"

Love was complicated. It could make someone pursue a girl who would happily take a picture of her rejection. It could steal away a person's words completely even if they could talk to anyone else. It could make someone who's been tainted with dark magic keep a promise to not hurt someone. It could make someone obedient to the point of despair for the smallest sign of approval.

It would be nice to not care. To let their hearts be cold and empty because it hurt so much, but that was a thought to be immediately dismissed. Not just pain… it also brought overwhelming happiness. Even if it hurt that Ladybug didn't look at him the same way, that Adrien didn't look at her the same way, they couldn't deny the joy they felt at each other's sides.

What were they?

She was flushed. It was difficult to keep her mind from wandering. Yes, indifference sounded really nice sometimes, but Marinette was the last person to exemplify such an emotion. She was too passionate for anyone's good, and it showed in these moments, reacting to the point of tears.

She reached out to scratch the underside of his chin and she was gentle, lacking the nervousness she'd displayed earlier. She wanted to alleviate the heavy air around them, to let them slip away from the discomfort and awkwardness that came with talking about their feelings. He was a good listener, but that didn't mean she was to abuse his kindness and willingness to offer consolation.

Almost instantly, the tension that had been in his body melted away, his thoughts fading as the gentle pleasure of the scratch hits him. His eyes drifted shut, leaning into the touch with a purr and a silly grin.

"Come sit up here," the bluenette crooned when he didn't verbally respond, patting the spot beside her. "If you don't have to leave yet, I mean." Marinette wanted to sound nonchalant, yet a bit of hope seemed to linger in her voice.

"Ladybug has been taking a few days off," Chat Noir said. "I'm on my own timetable unless she calls." And as to what his time table told him? Well, certainly not to leave; he didn't waste a second in climbing up onto the bed at her request.

He was cute. Purring, inclined towards her hand. It wasn't the first time Marinette thought this; Chat Noir, in all his bravado and attempts to impress, was endearing and sensitive and _terribly_ sweet. She was glad to be able to see this side of him. As Ladybug, she preferred to keep things professional—and this was of her own choosing. So, to loosen up once in a while was nice and she couldn't deny the way her stomach flipped when the other's presence had moved closer and his unique scent touched her senses.

Confusion hit her because, surely, she shouldn't be thinking this way about anyone other than her beloved Adrien. Friendlier than the first few instances in which she'd mulled over it. No longer did she consider this bond one hundred percent companionable, even if she desperately tried to convince herself otherwise. They had already seen one another in the most vulnerable of states, and their relationship bordered on understanding, on secretive. Without the too close for comfort sort of touching and the implications that came with it.

He _had_ the chance to leave if he so wished. He didn't. He wanted to stay, and that realization alone warmed her heart. Marinette tried not to appear sheepish at the mention of Ladybug taking a few days off.

She couldn't make it obvious that they were the same person and so she attempted to appear mildly surprised instead, asking, "Really? That's kind of weird. Um, she seems so responsible, after all!" Leave it at that, _leave it at that._ "I'm sure something important must have come up."

Chat Noir had curled up on her good side, not wanting to accidentally jostle her injured arm. Especially when he lightly head-butted her shoulder because _honestly,_ her touch made magic. He had resisted the feline urge to ask for more rustling affection, but he was certain this happy feeling was far more than scratch-related endorphins

"She is. If there's no word, then it's for good reason. She might just need a break after I was MIA. I won't worry, though. If she doesn't show up for an _Akuma_ , then something's terribly wrong." Okay, that was an outright lie. He worried anyway, but he was trying to have more faith. Surely she wouldn't be as careless as him.

He frowned despite himself and shook his head with a huff. "We really should set up something like… proxy emails."

"Proxy emails, huh. Yeah! You should mention it to her next time." [No need. She got the point and would take his words into consideration.]

"Mhmm, I will. It'd probably reassure both of us."

As long as they were careful and no one else knew the emails, it was a relatively secure way to communicate. They could even use code names if they had to. Plus, it'd be another opportunity to talk with her. Maybe make a connection. See if it was possible to get past those guards.

Marinette's voice broke his thoughts. _"Tu sais…"_ Teasing him, blue eyes flickering with amusement and lips lifting in a playful smile, "It's a little funny. I would have guessed a grand superhero like yourself would want to spend their Friday evening somewhere more interesting than some incapacitated girl's bedroom."

He winked. "Well, I am pretty grand. Someone very interesting." Tail absently moving around her waist. "Or rather, with someone interesting. Which sounds better to me, honestly. You can predict interesting places, but interesting people? They tend to surprise you."

Like she already had. Like she always did. Whether it's her designs, her bravery, her kindness. Again and again. No wonder Marinette tempted his heart. And staying around here was encouraging to that temptation, but he couldn't force himself to leave. Would temptation be so bad?

[It was not as if Ladybug expected romantic loyalty out of someone she constantly rebuffed.]

She tried not to focus on the smirk that had curved his lips. It was becoming obvious. Yes, she liked Adrien, but she also enjoyed Chat Noir's company and a part of her felt disgusted with herself, as though her emotions were _so_ capricious that they would flicker between both males given the circumstance.

At the same time, she didn't want to play with his heart as Ladybug—because she was whom Chat Noir had feelings for, not Marinette. And if she wouldn't allow herself to soften up and lower her guard then, why now? Or—

Maybe that was the point. Because right now, she could just be herself. And sitting beside the kitty cat brought her an unimaginable amount of relief to the solitude she'd forced herself to get used to these last few days. She didn't know Adrien as much as she would like to. And she wouldn't let Chat Noir discover too much as Ladybug. So the nature in which she interacted with him now was the most comfortable, she decided. Likely for them both. Marinette told herself these things but it did nothing to change the fact that her heart was fluttering as his tail came to wrap loosely around her waist, at the way he had bumped his head to her shoulder like some small, needy, kitten.

"So… what does that mean?" she asked and shifted to accommodate the other, tucking her legs under her bottom and gesturing for Chat Noir to make himself comfortable on the bed. Whether he chose to sit up straight, sprawl himself out or curl up nearby, [head in her lap, even—she certainly wouldn't mind], she would like to reach and touch him in some way.

It was a strange thought to have. But, there was something nice that came with physical contact. A sort of innocent gratification that warmed her heart. She forgot the ache of her shoulder when she was with him; the while before her next dosage of painkillers didn't seem as long as it did before he had showed up.

"Do I qualify as someone who meets your standards of interesting? Mm, careful—! That can be misconstrued, _mon minou_."

It was lighthearted flirting, the kind she didn't expect to go anywhere. The kind Ladybug was good at, but Marinette enjoyed. Which was fine, because she'd be upset if she happened to make things awkward again. She shifted her weight as the other deliberately chose to lean against her good shoulder, pressing her fingers into the blanket before idly tipping her head to nose soft strands of blonde hair.

Heat traveled up to his face. The hands had been one thing—the nuzzling another. Not that he was complaining. It was a wonderful feeling and he shifted to rub his cheek against her shoulder. He had always been a sucker for physical affection, and his suit-induced inclinations hadn't done a thing to help that.

"There's a difference between finding someone interesting and being interested in them, after all. Of course, you already know that."

"You're right. There is. And you _do_ , indeed, meet my standards of interesting. You always sur _purr_ ise me when I see you," he responded under his breath. "I rather enjoy talking to you, Princess."

As for being interested _in_ her. Well, he made no comment. Neither a confirmation nor a denial.

She straightened up, unable to contain the smile in her own voice. "I enjoy talking to you, too!" It wasn't something she would have admitted sincerely upon their earlier interactions. However, now, she could be honest without the doubt that had been eating at her lately. She liked being near him. _This,_ she was sure of. "It beats talking to myself, anyway," she ruefully added.

Alya had been a sweetheart these last few days, visiting often and helping her catch up in class—and her parents checked on her periodically regarding food and other necessities. Even so, she wanted to be out again, back to school.

He snorted. "I suppose talking to a strange superhero cat is a bit less strange?" he teased. Either way, their situation was peculiar.

"All I've been doing is sleeping and moping around, Chat Noir. It's horrible." Marinette he had tried to pout but this was said with a small giggle, unable to stay upset. "As for the 'interesting'… You've exceeded _my_ standards. Probably."

"Only probably?" Chat Noir let out a dramatic gasp, "I'm hurt, Princess. And here I was going to offer the healing properties of my purrs. It's even a scientific fact that cat purrs help broken bones."

Marinette found herself reaching for the other, pinching his cheek gently and grinning. It was difficult to control the urge; he was adorable and she had a soft spot for this kind of behavior. "Really? Cat purrs can do that?" As odd as it sounded, she had a feeling that Chat Noir wasn't kidding.

[He may have searched up a bit too much on cats, but best way to make as many jokes as possible was to know as much as possible about them.]

 _"Ouais—!_ The sound range of a purr actually has several health benefits. Helps bone and muscle recovery, lowers stress and even the chances of a heart attack," he boasted. As to whether _his_ purrs did anything, he wasn't sure. Not like he'd tell her that.

"Aah, _c'est super…_ I had no idea. You've done your research."

"Google is a wonderful thing. Though I may not have slept the first night I tried gathering good sources. I couldn't even tell my best friend why I was so tired the next day."

Although she couldn't imagine Chat Noir out of his suit, she found herself laughing at the thought of the other staying up late to surf the internet on everything 'feline-related'—really, he was the biggest dork she'd ever come across and while she had never quite paid attention to him like _this_ before, she began to regret not taking past opportunities to get to know him better.

"I take it back. You've definitely exceeded my standards," Marinette corrected herself from earlier, releasing him and tapping his nose for the second time that evening.

She knew should be careful about Ladybug-like actions but she was just so comfortable around the other. Her body reacted on its own and in her slightly fazed state, medicated and tired, she couldn't be bothered to put on an act. "So feel free to use those 'healing properties' on me anytime."

Chat Noir beamed, in spite of the familiar gesture. "Since the princess asked so nicely.~"

He paused. Well, if she was uncomfortable, she would push him off. She hadn't been shy about it before and it would be the easiest position with only one good arm. The superhero laid back, resting his head against her leg, pushing her hand up towards his hair.

Her eyes softened. With a quiet laugh, she began to gently comb her fingertips through the soft blonde, strands, occasionally scratching at an ear or brushing her thumb affectionately across his cheek. He relaxed completely under her touch, eyelids slowly falling.

It didn't take long for him to begin purring. The redness from his cheeks linger and he told himself it was because this is strangely intimate. Never mind the fact that he never blushed when he models things like this with girls anymore.

In any case, it felt nice to indulge a little. There was no one he could ask to pet him and the touches from His Lady were fleeting. He could get used to the sensation of Marinette's fingers in his hair, the scratches she offered to his ears and her soft hand against her skin.

"Hey, Princess."

"Hmm?"

"Do I need an excuse to visit?"


	16. embrasse-moi

_A/N: #letadrieneat2k16_

 _Disclaimer: I own nothing._

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xvi.  
embrasse-moi

 _Tu vas bien ?_

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Marinette couldn't find it in herself to pull away even as the fluttering of her pulse grew to be too much. She tilted her head curiously at the question. Fingers finally halting in their movements, shifting with slight discomfort beneath his head.

"No," she breathed out all too quickly and she wondered if this was okay, to speak so earnestly when she had been hiding so much for him, even now. Enthusiasm mingling with guilt, warmth with unease—she discarded the thoughts as she added, more calmly this time, "You can stop by whenever you want."

Chat Noir opened an eye; she seemed almost desperate to get out that first word. He wasn't sure why… it was as though something had worried her. Regardless, he offered a relieved, happy smile. "Good. I—" He hesitated, uncertainty clear in his expression, before continuing, "I'd like to be your friend. But, it's pretty hard to hang out in public. _Hah_ , who knew cat ears and leather would stand out so much?"

"I can't imagine they'd stand out at all," she snorted quietly.

"I know! Some people are so weird—a man should be allowed to look _nya_ -ice and _paw_ some without getting strange looks."

She suppressed a laugh and pride crossed his face to be able to coax such a reaction from her.

But then Marinette appeared timid. It was peculiar because she was the perfect picture of his own emotions. Tentative, insecure. Worried that honest, earnest affection will be rejected and he couldn't blame her for it.

"Aren't we… uh, already friends?" Ears burning, throat cleared. Fingers leaving his hair to hook around her nape. It was a painfully innocent question, straightforward and inquiring. She wouldn't ask him for anything more. Just to know that he wanted to visit on his own accord felt wonderful.

Wrapping an arm around her waist and squeezing her close, the hero remarked with elation, "We are. I didn't want to make the claim if you weren't comfortable with it." Chat Noir could admit to himself that he was a lonely child, that he didn't know how to ask for the warmth he desired. On the other hand, Marinette deserved to know how much she was adored and he felt determined to show her.

She stiffened, sitting straight up. Blue eyes flitted from their fixated state on the wall to the kitty cat in her lap—chest fluttering, stomach doing flips. He was the embodiment of sincerity in that very moment; relief escaped in Marinette's sigh as she dropped her hand to gently pet his head again. "Right. Just checking," she lamely murmured. "I guess I'm glad to hear you say it. It's not a lot coming from me, but I'd like you to know that I think you're a great friend."

Before now, Marinette wouldn't have been so honest with the other. And while she would match his playfulness when the time called for it, tease him, challenge him—occasionally ignore him like Ladybug had the tendency to do—she would also be the pillar he could lean on whenever he needed one. Just as he'd been here for her.

Chat Noir pushed his head into her hand, his grip on her wrist loosening, but not quite letting go. "It means a great deal. Especially from you." Because for how difficult it had been to get close her, he knew how good of a friend she was. In the way Alya adored her, how kind and supportive she had been to Nino during that disaster of a date, how hard she worked as class president.

A girl who would hurt her chances with her crush to let him think his father cares. "You are an exceptional person, Marinette," he told her, allowed his eyes to fall closed again and trying to not let on how his insides fluttered.

For some reason, hearing her actual name on Chat Noir's lips—not 'Princess' nor 'My Lady'—suprised her and she forced herself to pay attention to the words that left him next. Of course, a reassurance. He was always doing this, making her feel better about herself and while she wanted to tell him that there was no need… her confidence skyrocketed. It was impossible not to return the smile. She huffed out a small laugh and continued to comb through his hair with slim fingers. "Mm. _Merci."_

 _"De rien."_ He enjoyed the silence. Well, near-silence; he couldn't resist purring when her fingers were in his hair. He was content to stay there and enjoy her presence. There was no need to put up walls and it was nice. A few minutes passed in which they said nothing.

At once, the aching in her shoulder was prominent. Flinching slightly, Marinette nudged the arm around her waist and mumbled, "I should go down and take painkillers for the next few hours. At least before my parents come up to check on me themselves _…"_ She really didn't want them interrupting their time together, as silly as it sounded. They would definitely have questions regarding why Chat Noir, of all people, was in her room.

"Hmm?" He appeared dazed before what she said finally registered within him. "Oh! Oh, yeah, sure," he agreed, moving his arm off her and sitting up so she could move more easily.

"Do you want me to bring anything back? Something to eat?" she trailed off, unsure of what else she could give him, settling inquisitive blue eyes on vivid green.

He paused at the question. "…Well, the cookies always smell really good whenever I end up here," he murmured, glancing to the side with reddened cheeks and a playful curve to his lips. "That is to say, if you're not sick of me yet."

Marinette straightened her legs out when the other moved off of her. It was endearing, the way he shyly mentioned the cookies. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she pushed herself off of the bed with her good arm. "Not yet.~" I'll grab some cookies for you! Papa made my favorites this afternoon." They sold well, though she was positive her parents had left a few aside for her.

He perked up when she agreed. "Sounds wonderful." He was careful about food. Years as a model led to a strict diet and snacking was discouraged, yet being Chat Noir burned a lot more calories than they were accounting for, so he was fine with cheating. Even so, it was awkward to ask for a treat. He had been disappointed when she rejected all the offers while he was there to practice for a certain video game tournament. Admittedly, he was glad to have the chance now.

Wait… Was her crush on Adrien the thing they were talking about at _that_ time? He knew they had been acting invasive; Marinette had been so annoyed, but he'd thought they were so friendly and perhaps a bit oddly persistent in trying to feed him. Had they simply wanted to know if things were going well for her?

 _God,_ she was adorable.

Clearing her throat, Marinette moved towards the hatch leading to the staircase that went down to the first floor.

* * *

There was time to kill. Chat Noir moved over to her desk, snooping around. Surely, she had scrap fabric somewhere…

* * *

With one arm rendered useless, she had to be careful and grip the railing through each step. The trip afterward didn't take long; she greeted her parents in the parlor, answered questions on her well-being and denied any sort of help they might offer before moving into the kitchen to down a glass of water and Ibuprofène.

She then warmed up the plate of cookies Sabine had placed on the counter for later, and while she'd attempted to sneak it upstairs undetected—she was caught and ended up sheepishly explaining, "I wanted a snack while doing homework."

That was a close one.

She didn't need them snooping after her… at least _sometimes_ they found it in themselves to knock before entering. With a sigh, the girl pushed open the hatch again and peeked into the room. "Ah—could you help me out really quick?" she quietly asked Chat Noir, trying to balance the plate in her grasp.

The boy in question looked up from his little scrap project at her voice. "Oh, right," he said, moving over to take the plate, ready to offer her a hand up if she needed it. Marinette breathed out a word of thanks and proceeded to climb up before closing the hatch. "Here! I warmed them up first. Take as many as you'd like," she exclaimed, moving to sit on the chair by her desk.

"You did?" Warm cookies? That sounded even better than regular cookies. He set down the plate on the desk, settling down beside her as he tried a cookie—promptly wolfing it down. "He really is an amazing baker!" he remarked between bites.

The eagerness with which he'd eaten the cookie made Marinette grin. He was like some child who had been rewarded for good behavior; she wondered just how often the kitty cat was able to indulge in sweets like this. _"Mhm,_ Papa is the best!" she proudly declared. There was no harm in being supportive of her parents' works, after all.

"I am very inclined to agree. Helpful with heroes, and a grand pastry maker. The more I learn, the more I like him."

"And he likes you, too, _Monsieur Super-héros."_

"What a relief."

She'd grabbed one cookie for herself, placing it between her lips—unable to help but notice the scraps of fabric strewn about. Marinette blinked, curiously shifting her eyes to the other. "Chat Noir, I hope you're not snooping around." The mock-warning was subdued with a smile. "What are you looking for? I might be able to help."

 _"Aha…_ Um. Fabric glue," he stated. "I found the colors I needed in your scrap fabrics. I mean, it looked an awful lot like a scrap fabric collection, but I thought we might want a signal for me to know when to visit." He gestured to the little cat face assembled on her desk when she moved for a closer look. "I'm sure you don't want me just peeking in at all hours of the night. I thought it might be wise to have something you can just hang up if you wouldn't mind me around that night."

To be honest, Marinette thought it was a great idea. Before she went to sleep, she might want to take it down. Or on the off-chance that she wasn't feeling well and may prefer to be alone. It would be much more convenient than kicking him out after he'd already arrived.

"Yes! I do have fabric glue." She rummaged through her drawers, retrieving the bottle and setting it aside. "This will work, right?" She didn't want to add that she'd probably have the ornament hanging up most nights but maybe it was obvious enough from the smile on her lips.

"It should. It's not like it has to be too hardy if it's just hanging." He picked up the container before retrieving another cookie and placing it in his mouth. Munching on it as he freed up his hands to glue the pieces together, using his claws to cut away any excess fabric.

He was meticulous—she grinned and reached out to poke the ornament once he'd finished. Fabric glue hardened fairly fast but it was still too wet to hang up.

"I'll find some string," she said and searched through the drawer for a piece of durable cord. She leaned in, carefully drawing the ornament closer, looping it through an opening at the top. Tying the cord with one hand proved to be difficult but she managed; after a few attempts, she'd created a loose knot that she figured her partner could take care of.

"There! Now we just wait until it's dry."

Chat Noir raised an eyebrow as he watched her. He tightened the knot and chuckled. "I suggest we find a place on the balcony, or on your window. And if anyone asks, you can just say you like cats," he added with a wink.

"Good plan," she sighed, leaning back in her chair and returning her gaze to Chat Noir with a smile. Blue optics drifting down to the other's mouth.

"…You have a little—" Her brow furrowed in concentration, reaching out on an impulse to grip his chin and brush a few crumbs from his bottom lip with her thumb. He stilled at once. It was such a small, soft touch, but he could feel his face grow hot.

She was getting rid of crumbs, he tried to tell himself. It was nothing. It didn't mean anything. Why was his heart pounding so hard?

Marinette appeared satisfied once she'd lowered her hand. Only a few seconds passed after completing the action when she realized just how _intrusive_ it had been. Her cheeks warmed up to mirror his and she awkwardly shifted her eyes past the other, stammering out an apology. _"Euh,_ I should have just told you."

He licked his lips and assured himself that, no, he couldn't taste her on his lips— _don't be weird._

 _"Princess—"_ He cleared his throat. "It's… fine."

She blinked and felt as though she might die from embarrassment when Chat Noir uttered the pet name—was she imagining how _low_ his voice had gotten? The heat pooled in her abdomen and she was left pressing a hand to her face, exasperatedly muttering, "I think I'm just tired, I can barely think straight."

Which wasn't a complete lie. Pain medication combined with the lack of rest at night and the syrup to help her sleep caused her head to spin around. It also didn't help that an [increasingly] attractive kitty cat happened to be in her room at the moment.

Needless to say, she was kind of distracted.

Marinette abruptly stood, ignoring the ache that traveled from her shoulder to her back in the hasty movement. Transferring the plate of cookies from her bed to the desk, taking her seat on the blankets once more. She grabbed the nearest pillow and drew her knees to her chest, face hidden from sight. A muffled, _"You'll have to excuse me for anything weird I do,"_ subsequently left her form.

…He would have been fine, he was sure of it, if he had been the only one acting bizarre. He'd received enough practice controlling himself that it shouldn't be a problem to reign in his thoughts and feelings.

Except, now, he _wasn't_ the only one acting bizarre. He was worried that he had made her uncomfortable as he studied her on the bed, slowly crawling over to settle beside it. His arms crossed on the edge, chin rested upon them. "Like I said—it's fine, Princess. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She didn't know _what_ kind of response she was expecting but upon sensing Chat shuffle about, move closer, and speak, she quickly raised her head and sputtered the first words that came to mind. "Oh, _no, no,_ you don't make me uncomfortable."

It was a lie, but she didn't need him to know how hard it was to breathe around him lately. "Like _I_ said, 'm just… tired." Asking him to leave remained the last thing she wanted to do. Subtlety might work in her favor. "I think I'm going to head to bed now. It's pretty late, after all."

He watched her, intently. To him, she had always been a puzzle. Perhaps not one he gave enough attention to, but the more he saw of her as Chat Noir, the more he realized he was missing out on a lot. She could be so shy that she'd lose her voice, so bold that she'd tell off a villain. She could go toe-to-toe with Chloé and she could dig a bullet out of an unexpected arrival.

She could calmly rebuff him and she could be… _this_.

Embarrassed, hiding, and he wanted to understand why. Was it him—was he projecting? Chat Noir managed to smile with some difficulty and straightened up, moving to stand on his feet.

"Yes. You need your rest," he affirmed. Then leaned over, quickly kissing her cheek. Starting back for the staircase, the hatch to the balcony. "Sweet dreams, Princess."

It had been a quick gesture, soft and completely unexpected. Started, wide, eyes followed the hero's receding figure—she knew much about _la bise,_ the customary two or three kisses when greeting someone, though this was different.

Her stomach was fluttering, her face was red, and she was terribly glad that he no longer faced her.

"Sweet dreams," Marinette returned under her breath. And once the sound of the hatch closing had entered her ears, she released a long and frustrated groan.


End file.
